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"It is called English, puto." He laughed. "Or Spanish, or French. Many places speak different things. I don't tell you more, unless you buy one of these nino's" He flourished his hand over oddly-made lightsabers. They were lightsabers, only very primitive and made of crystal, not plasma. "Only fifty credits, mehn."

"Well, that depends. Do you stand in high position? Are you a government official, or could you help me... persuade some people I have debt-problems with? Favors are valued as money in some places." His eyes turned dark suddenly, and his voice serious.

"Good." He rolled the cloth that the sabers were lying on, as if this were planned, and stowed them in his plasti-steel mesh container, than picked it up, and motioned to the table. "Help me with that, and follow me." He turned, and went to a dark alley that was behind his booth.

They entered a flat adobe building by a short entrance that evn the man had to duck to get under. He put down things on a steel surface, and pointed to the opposite, bare wall. "Put the table there."

"This way." He turned, and closed the door they entered by, and barred it. He opened a door on the opposite side, of normal size, and beckoned for Drakonis to enter first. The air was full of smoke and a funny, earthy smell. A poker table was surrounding by six burly men in Romani suits. Their bodygaurds stood, from seats along the walls, drawing pistols. One asked in Basic. "Who is this Machete?" The man who guided Drakonis, apparently Machete, motioned for them to put away the guns. "He is a friend of mine, simply come to talk to you about something I have been unable to persuade you of." The bodygaurds still stood, apparently unable to understand Basic. He repeated the words in a different language, Spanish, to be specific. They aimed their pistols at Drakonis. "Sit them down, Friend. I know you can use the Way."

"They don't speak basic, friend. Make them sit, or draw your blade and block their bullets. They are not blasters, so there is no chance of reflecting the shot.

"Use your abilities to keep em down. Or you can just kill em, the farther they are out of this conversation, the better." Machete turned to the business men. "Gentlemen?" They all turned, and put down their cards. They did not speak basic, but knew they were being addressed. Drakonis couldn't understand what they said next, but Machete spoke quickly. {Men, he is a genuine Jedi. Should you not turn over the whole of your enterprises, I could have him lop off your heads with a lightsaber like none you've ever seen. Or one of many other horrific deaths.}

Machete smiled, as the men twitched with fear, almost whimpering. {Do we have a deal?"} The men all moaned agreement. {If you should deny me my property tommorrow, I will have him with me all through the week, to make things official."} He turned to Drakonis. "It is time we should be leaving. Would you like to lodge with me tonight?"