The Art of Broken Pieces

60 Porgs (Moon Porgs Bow to Their Leader)

At first, Rey was relieved that they didn't seem to be heading for the shop with the eager Twilek, but as the speeder zoomed at roof-height along increasingly clean thoroughfares, the prevalence of rooftop cafes and sleek shop windows caused her to squint. These boutiques seemed to show off actual goods, their facades made of transparisteel rather than over-edited hologram adverts of the more common shops in the tourist hub.

The streets were polished slabs of marble inset with narrow conveyance belts, should shoppers wish to glide rather than walk. There were hover carts with long handles, drawn by beings of every race, decked out in purple and gold livery of the district. Rey spied a rooftop cafe which seemed to host exclusively groups of well-dressed women who required tiny secondary tables with tiny secondary treats for the variety of creatures spilling fuzzily from their handbags.

At last, the speeder came to a smooth automated stop at the top of a marble-tiled hill, before a slim boutique guarded by four separate liveried beings. Two humans, a Rodian, and a Gammorrian glared out at a small gaggle of interested clients, all of them peering through the transparisteel display at a wisp of a gown that shifted colors as the light hit it from different angles.

"Is someone guarding deadly fashion secrets back there?" Rey asked. "Maybe if they lost a guard, they could afford a few vowels for their name."

Ben shrugged. "Don't look at me. I did a little snooping, enough to know this was the place to get gowns if you wanted to stand out in a crowd. That, and I'll know what we need when I see it. Beyond that..." He shot her a slightly helpless look. "Trust me Rey, I only look like I know what I'm doing here when compared to you."

Helping her out of the shuttle he swept her past the curious shoppers and up to the guards at the boutique doors. He held out the small token, setting his shoulders arrogantly. " We have an appointment. "

The Rodian snapped up the coin in her paws, sniffed it, and seemed satisfied that it was real. She gestured Ben and Rey up the silver-chased stairs as the Gammorian and one human guard drew open the dark wooden doors.

Rey blinked in the relative darkness, holding onto Ben's arm a bit tighter as the scents of delicate flowers and leather and fabric filled her sinuses. Her dark vision had been utterly annihilated by the sparkling daylight, and she felt almost as if she were descending into a pool of blackness.

What was it with dark pools and mirrors that seemed to go together in her consciousness? And why was this den of fashion more frightening than the grotto on Ach-To?

A chandelier shone out from the relative murk, and Rey was slightly relieved to find it more understated than the gaudy, gem-dripping monstrosities she'd seen this far. It was a simple net of opalescent gems, dangling from a silver x. Each gem seemed to create its own light, glowing individually on the strand.

As her vision adjusted, Rey found herself standing in a room draped with silk in wide vertical stripes of alternating dusky gray and charcoal. The floor was a pristine pale wood, polished to glowing and scattered with fluffy white throws.

What she didn't see where mannequins, or dresses. Just a single pedestal and a single mirror, with a curvaceous chair upholstered in black silk.

They appeared to be alone.

"Welcome, guests!" The voice came from a side alcove, where a curtain suddenly drew back to reveal a petite man in the most... elaborate of outfits. His vibrantly checkered jacket was high collared, the stiffened sleeves ballooning out like wings at the shoulders. The short pants he wore formed bells to his knees, where they met a pair of disconcertingly pink boots. Ben blinked at him, at a loss for words.