#please excuse the time gaps between scenes... it's marked unfinished for a reason

[jedimordsith]

Dancer (Part VI)

“You coming, Boss?” Tycho turned to Luke quizzically as he fell behind as the rest of the group wove its way down the crowded street.

Luke shook his head. “Nah, I'm gonna go check out this place Han told me about. You go on ahead.”

Wedge, also trailing, turned back and joined the other two. “Checking out someplace new without us?” He sounded affronted. “Trying to keep all the hot girls to yourself, Luke? That's not like you.”

“It's not a bar. It's a shop.” He gave them a slightly lopsided grin that was an echo of Han's. “A small, dingy, slightly illegal shop, if everything Han promises is true.”

Tycho grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Well, I'm in,” he announced. “Lead on!”

“I can't impede your drinking,” Luke protested, but Wedge was already on his other side, waiting.

“Too late,” he declared, resolutely. “We're going. So go.”

Luke sighed and started off in the direction Han had indicated. “Look,” he told his friends. “It's not that I don't want you to come, it's just...”

“Buying stuff you don't want the guys to know about?” Tycho wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, actually,” Luke said, bluntly.

That surprised his friends, but they didn't judge. They were Rogue Squadron, after all. “Your secrets are safe with us, Boss,” Wedge promised.

Numerous twists, turns and ducking through alleys later, Luke spotted the hole in the wall shop. He stopped, and turned to his friends, his expression grave.

“Listen, you said my secrets were safe with you, and I trust you. Completely.” His solemn gaze took the others aback. “But this really, really has to stay between us. Other people's safety is at risk. I can't tell you more than that, but it's important.”

Tycho and Wedge shared a look.

“Our lips are sealed,” Tycho said, seriously. “Not a whisper, to anyone. Rogue's honor.”

Luke gave him a half-smile at the irony of that, but relented. “All right. Come on.”

They slipped inside, their eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness.

“Okay,” Wedge admitted quietly. “This wasn't what I was expecting.”

The narrow interior was lined with shatterproof cases packed with weapons of every imaginable description.

“Are we looking for something in particular?” Tycho asked, also instinctively keeping his voice low.

“Not exactly,” Luke said, unable to be more specific. “Just… something special.”

“Okay.” The three of them meandered through the cases, occasionally oohing, ahhing, or whistling over a rare find. The pieces were a conglomeration of new and used, commodities and rarities. The fat alien owner sat at the back of the store, periodically flicking his eyes up from his tentacle-porn holozine in their direction.

Multiple rows in, Luke was no closer to finding something appropriate, but Wedge had found a Corellian blaster he absolutely had to have. They made their way back to the counter, and the owner dropped his data pad to give them a mostly pleasant smile.

“Find something, gentles?” His voice was gruff from too many years of using spice, but had a slightly refined accent that suggested that he'd once been educated and experienced far beyond the backwater city he now inhabited.

Wedge gave him the product code on the blaster, and the creature hit a few buttons behind the counter. There was a whirring, and the weapon dropped out of its case into a concealed conveyor system under the floor.

“Nice,” Tycho commented, approving.

“It cuts down on theft,” the alien shrugged casually, but seemed pleased with the compliment. The blaster popped up behind the counter and, in short order, Wedge was strapping it onto his thigh in the accompanying holster.

“Can I assist you other gentles in finding something?” the alien peered at Tycho and Luke.

Celchu shook his head. “I'm just along for the scenery.”

Luke leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “I need something special,” he told the shopkeeper. “Unique. For a girl.”

That caught everyone's interest. The alien lit up with the pleasure of a challenge and a chance to show off his expertise.

“A human girl?” he asked, eyeing Luke, the gears in his head clearly turning.

The Jedi nodded.

“Big or small?” the alien inquired.

“Petite,” Luke answered. A smile flickered across his face. “And already well armed.”

The shopkeeper nodded, humming to himself. “Ah, thus the need for something special.”

Behind Luke's back, Wedge and Tycho were looking at each other, mystified and intrigued.

“Leia?” Wedge mouthed his guess. “Birthday?”

Tycho, who knew the Princess well, furrowed his brow. “Not for months,” he mouthed back.

“You can stop that,” Luke said dryly over his shoulder, making the others smile in chagrin. “It's not for Leia.”

The alien was tapping away at his data pad, and turned to peer at Luke thoughtfully. “The recipient. She can be trusted with truly dangerous things?”

Luke laughed. “Oh yeah.”

“She is lovely?”

“Very.”

The alien hit a few more buttons, and the conveyor whirred again, this time from the direction of the back room. The three Rogues watched eagerly as a modestly sized opaque box popped up through the counter. They leaned forward as the alien pressed a hidden release latch and it snapped open. Inside was a folded swath of royal blue velvet. Luke reminded himself not to hold his breath.

With great care, the alien unfolded the top layer of velvet. Nestled inside was an intricate silver filigree arm cuff with inset moonstones, designed to lace up with a fine cord. The alien turned the box to show them, puffing slightly with pride as he pointed out its features.  

“This piece is very rare,” he informed them. “Designed to be worn decoratively, or concealed with equal ease. Under clothing, it will be flat enough not to be seen. These,” he tapped the opals, “detach and can be filled with the solution of your choice. Poison, acid, spice – even nutrient solutions. Anything.” He lifted the piece to show them the fine lacing. “The lacing is highly conductive and can be used to fix electronics in a pinch. It is also suitable as garrote wire if you find yourself in need.” The shopkeeper looked at the piece fondly. “This I picked up legally, believe it or not. Many years ago. I have yet to find anyone who can appreciate it.”

“I'll take it,” Luke said. “It's perfect.”

The alien radiated satisfaction and began to wrap it up. “Your lady is very lucky, my friend.”

Luke dug out his credit chips, unfazed by the price. “She deserves something beautiful,” he said softly as the alien passed the resealed box to him.

“Come back if you need more,” the alien advised him. “I have a few other pieces she might enjoy if she likes that.”

“I will,” Luke nodded, and they made their way outside. He tucked the box securely away in a cargo pocket, and they started working their way in the direction of the cantina where they expected their friends were still drinking.

“That's quite a piece, Boss,” Wedge commented, trying to fish for information without looking like he was fishing for information.

“Good.” Luke wasn't giving up anything and his friends resigned themselves to dying of curiosity.

“You gonna let us meet this friend at some point?” Tycho asked.

Luke rubbed his hand against the box through his pocket. “I'm counting on it.” He frowned, concern whispering across his features before he forced it away. “Hopefully sooner rather than later.”

They reached the cantina then and had to let the matter drop. They told the others they'd gone to buy Wedge a blaster, which he proudly showed off. But neither Celchu nor Antilles missed the way Luke's hand occasionally returned to rub absently at his pocket as he thought of the beautiful, dangerous girl they didn't know.