Star Wars_ Millennium Falcon - James Luceno [40]
“One hundred ten thousand five hundred,” someone in the back of the room said.
Lestra Oxic turned in his seat and looked over his shoulder. The rival bidder was a Bith sporting a stylishly embroidered headcloth, his handheld identity screen displaying nothing more than a number.
“Eleven thousand,” Oxic said, displaying his screen while he swung to face the auctioneer's podium.
“We'sa have'a bid'o one hundred eleven thoussand. Do'sa we hear twelve?”
The guest auctioneer was a Gungan clothed in a long embroidered robe and celebrated for his rapid-fire delivery; the item up for bid, a small statue that had once graced the northwest atrium of Coruscant's Galactic Courts of Justice. A rare and valuable piece, as all examples of Republicana had become since the Yuuzhan Vong had devastated half the galaxy almost twenty years earlier.
“One hundred and twelve,” the same Bith said, drawing excited inhales from the mixed-species audience of one hundred or so bidders.
Oxic immediately raised his screen above his head. “One hundred twelve-five.”
Hydians, as the auction house was known, was itself a prime example of Republicana, studded with elegant columns and floored in the finest polished stone. Originally it had sat at the center of Sah'ot on Chandrila, but two years into the Yuuzhan Vong invasion a team of architects and construction engineers supervising an army of flesh-and-blood and droid laborers had worked feverishly to disassemble the building piece by piece and ship it to Epica, which, as hoped by those who had funded the undertaking and despite its natural beauty, had proved too remote and insignificant to attract the attention of the invaders. Many of the beings responsible for the building's relocation and tedious reassembly had remained onworld after the conclusion of the war, and had since raised opulent palaces and mansions in the forested hills that embraced the spaceport, in the process transforming Epica's once nondescript principal city into a place of privilege and sophistication. Transformed, too, was the native population of humans, Bothans, Duros, and Bimms, who now served to satisfy the increasing needs of the wealthy who had co-opted their planet.
“We'sa stil'la waitin' for a bid'o one hundred thirteen thoussand,” the auctioneer was saying.
Oxic pivoted in his chair to regard the Bith, this time through a pair of compact alumabronze macrobinoculars. In his free hand, the being from the Clak'dor system was holding an expensive comlink.
“One hundred thirteen thousand,” the Bith said.
“One hundred fourteen,” a woman seated a few rows in front of the Bith countered. Oxic recognized her from past auctions as an employee of the Trouvee family, which owned a gambling complex on Oseon VII.
“One fourteen-five,” the Bith responded.
Oxic squirmed in his seat. Unusually tall for a human, he had a flawless, clean-shaven face that belied his advanced age. His narrow frame bordered on the skeletal and his hands and feet were unnaturally long, yet his custom wardrobe was cut in a way that emphasized his delicate thinness and contributed to an overall impression of his being larger than life. A force of nature.
He knew just the spot for the small figurine: atop the fluted pedestal from 500 Republica that stood alongside his office desk. But he hadn't planned on paying more than 114,000 for it—the piece was somewhat overvalued even at 113,000—and certainly not when other items on the block would suffice. Still, the statue was hard to resist.
“One hundred and fifteen thousand,” he said, taking himself by surprise.
When he turned, he saw the Bith whispering into his comlink, then listening to whoever was at the other end of the link.
“One hundred and seventeen.”
The crowd gasped and Oxic's shoulders sagged. He resisted an urge to look at the Bith.
“We'sa have'a bid'o one hundred seventeen thoussand,” the Gungan said in excitement. “Will'sa any'say eighteen? How'sa 'bout seventeen-five?” He waited a moment. “One hundred seventeen'sa goin' once … 'sa goin' twice …” His mallet struck the podium with