We arrived on the planet late at night, so after landing we went straight to our quarters to rest. During that time, the clones were successfullyrelocated to the barracks, the militia regiment settled into its assigned area, and the ship crews—together with the engineering and repair battalions—began fixing their vessels on theirown. Captain Ragnos didn't have much faith in the local repairmen; the docks were already overloaded with work.
Early in the morning, I hurried to headquarters to check on the situation. However, communicationwas still down, so for now we were useless. Essentially, no one needed us. As I mentioned earlier, I was supposed to report to the Council and receive a new assignment. After all, Jedi are considered a separate resource, and I'm not in charge of one regiment. Well, at least we had some free time now. Alright, I've got my arm ready, so it was time to work on defense. The lightsabers were a bust anyway. After goingthrough a dozen of the crystals I had, I stillcouldn't find the right ones. I'd have to wait until my next visit to the Temple.
"Ahsoka, I have an enticing offer."
"Mm?"
"Let's go shopping, shall we?"
"Master?"
"Come on, let's just go. I promise it'll be interesting."
"All right."
When we reached the nearest stop, we hailed a local taxi.
"Chief," I said, sitting down on the speeder's seat and waving my hand in a casual, patronizinggesture. "Where is the best atelier for armor and armor here?"
The taxi driver, who turned out to be a Dug, grunted cheerfully.
"A atelier, huh? You're a joker. Anyway, I know a couple of places. How're you doing with…?" The Dug rubbed his paws together meaningfully.
"So-so, but we can splurge a little," I replied diplomatically.
"Then Tii'La's shop is what you need," declared the driver, pulling the speeder out of the parking spot.
Is he related to Sebulba or something? I wondered as the vehicle lurched forward in a stomach-churning turn. Or do all Dugs, like Russians, have the same driving syndrome?
After a while, we arrived at the shop he had recommended. Well—"shop" hardly did it justice. It was a full-fledged boutique: spacious, brightly lit, and lined with display cases containing all kinds of armor, armaments, and related equipment.
In the center of the hall stood... what was that? I must have spoken aloud, because a woman's voice answered me.
"This is the PX-11 Battlement powered armor, AR-3 modification. Heavy durasteel plating, an exoskeleton with synthetic muscles and nanohydraulics. Chromium finish. Additional features include a jetpack, built-in blaster, plasma cutter with a fifteen-centimeter blade, and a medium-power deflector shild generator."
"Impressive. And how much does this beauty cost?" I asked, turning toward the source of the voice.
She turned out to be... a girl? ... of a humanoid race, similar to... My memory failed me for some reason, but I was sure that I had seen those blue eyes somewhere before, and red... no, pink skin, with... tentacles? Hair? ... floating in the air.
"A rare modification, with my own upgrades. Two hundred and ninety thousand credits," the girl said with a smile.
I gave a low whistle.
"Well, that's almost a brand-new corvette. Actually, scratch that—it is a brand-new corvette, maybe two. But hey, you can't put a price on safety, right?"
She suddenly tensed.
"This armor is not for sale."
I raised my hands in mock surrender.
"Relax. This contraption's a bit too much for me anyway, and it doesn't look like it'd fit. I'd prefer something lighter—something that won't restrict my movements." I nodded meaningfully towardthe lightsaber hanging from my belt. "Preferablywith a deflector shield."
"Hm. A Jedi? I don't recall anyone from your Order ever visiting my little shop." She tilted her head, curious. "How's your budget?"
"Fine. As I said, we don't skimp on security—especially in these turbulent times. Oh, and I'll need something for my Padawan, too."
"Hmm." The girl circled me thoughtfully, then moved behind the counter and began typing on a stationary datapad.
Meanwhile, Ahsoka was wandering between the display cases, examining everything with wide eyes.
A couple of minutes later, Tii'La looked up.
"I think I've found something suitable. The droids will bring out a sample in a moment."
Right then, a service droid rolled out from the back room, carrying a suit of armor on a manipulator frame.
I stepped closer—and knew instantly that this was it. This one was mine. I wasn't giving it up. The gray armor had a subtle bluish sheen. The armor plates looked impressive, though it didn't cover the entire body; the inner lining was thick and reinforced, the armor could clearly function as a spacesuit. And the helmet—Force, that helmet was awesome. It actually reminded me of Iron Man, except the "chin" had a slightly different shape. The forearm guards had modular slots for tools and weapons. The set even came with a short half-cloak—a mackintosh—plus a belt with plenty of pouches and a holster for a blaster pistol. Just what I needed.
The girl, clearly pleased by my reaction, began listing the specs.
"Overbear Protective Armor, Model Three. Designed for humanoid species, primarily humans. Weight: forty kilograms. Plating: Durastain alloy with bronze fiber reinforcement. Lining and cloak: armored fabric. An orthopedicbackpack is built into the back plates, which houses the deflector shield generator. True, it's not as powerful as the one on the Battlement, but it can absorb several dozen light blaster shots. It has connectors for datapads, comlinks, scanners, and similar devices. Price: one hundred and twenty thousand credits."
"I'll take it," In order to calm my emotions, I took the bantha by the horns. "And what about her?" I pointed to the Togruta who had wandered over.
"I'm afraid I can't help you there," Tii'La saidapologetically. "Armor for Togruta is a bit of a specialty item—especially for such... small ones."
"I'm not small!" Ahsoka objected indignantly.
" Or-to, of course not, sweetheart. Let's say you're... petite?" The girl smiled.
Ahsoka hesitated for a moment, then, finding nothing insulting in the term, nodded reluctantly.
"Although," Tii'La continued, "I can offer you this." She walked over to a nearby display and took out a small backpack. "A portable deflector shield generator. It weighs four kilograms, has an operating time of up to one minute, and canabsorb a couple of medium blaster hits. Recharge time—five minutes. I can also add a roll of armored fabric. You have your own tailoring tools, I assume?"
"That's not a problem. Price?"
"Forty thousand credits for the generator, and five thousand for the fabric. By the way, what color would you prefer?"
"Shall we take it?" I asked Ahsoka.
"You're not going to back down, are you, Master?" she sighed, clearly less than thrilled at the prospect of running around in extra gear.
"Nope." I grinned and shook my head.
"Then let's take it. And the color—red," she said, waving her hand.
"Wrap it all up for us," I said politely to theshopkeeper.