A Fist Full of Credits [Canto Bight OPEN]

[Talia]

In the adjacent room to the sabaac game, Talia’s patience was running in short supply, and it had become apparent to the twi’lek sat opposite her. He offered her a wide smile. “Talia…” he said slowly spreading his hands. “You did good work, this is something that cannot be argued with. Quick, clean,” he brought his fingers to his lips and blew a kiss. “Beautiful, just like you. But the Boss…” he clicked his tongue and gave a shrug that suggested he was no in control. “The Boss says your rates are too high. So we’re not paying you what we originally agreed.”

Talia wasn’t looking at him, she was studying the dejarick board between them and assessing her odds. Not to win the game, oh, no, that she’d won three moves ago and Griff knew it, which was why the holograms were beginning to grow restless at his deliberate delay in acting. No, she was playing out each scenario in her head, wondering if the gamorrean and the rodian he’d brought with him were as slow as they were stupid. She’d no armour. That was part of this arrangement. They conducted business in relatively public places, and she came without her armour. Instead the backless nude dress and silver heeled shoes she wore, made them feel more comfortable, especially when she allowed the slit up her legs to ride a little high.

That didn’t mean she was unarmed.

“I wonder, Griff, if your boss knows that you underpay his assassins and bounty hunters and skim off the top. I imagine he would be incredibly upset with you, and equally so to the those who turned a blind eye to it.” Griff smiled, wide and proud, leaning forward.

“Come now, Talia, business is business we have a good rapport you and I, do we not?” her made his move, without looking. This game didn’t matter.

“If you underpay me, our rapport will be irreversibly damaged.”

“A risk I am willing to take.” Talia laughed then without any inflection of amusement as her pieces advanced, shredding through Griff’s. His smile faltered.

“One way or another, I will leave this room with full pay. And when I do, I will not be coming back. This is my last job for you Griff, I’m done playing these stupid games.”

The distinct bellow of a wookie drew Griff’s companions to the open door of their private room, and Talia moved plunging herself into the force, her chair sliding backward as she got to her feet and seized Griff head, bouncing it hard enough from the dejarick table to crack it. The noise was followed by the angry squealing of the gamorrean who swung a fat fist her way. Talia caught it, the sudden stop baffling both the bodyguards, A beat past as energy travelled along her arm before she slammed her own fist into his chest, sending him crashing into the opposite wall before her the glittering heel found the seat of her chair and slid it hard into the legs of the now advancing rodian, he staggered, time enough for her to pulled the holdout from her thigh and level it at his head. He froze, staring into the blasters barrel before lifting his head to meet the red heads gaze.

“I’d like to get paid.” she said softly. “In full. Now.”

[member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Vilhelm Balfour"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Semi-Private Sabaac Room

[member="Vilhelm Balfour"] | [member="Ember Rekali"] | [member="Talia"]

He was fully prepared to suggest maybe they up the stakes when a gamorren came crashing through the wall like a wrecking ball, and the hole in it showed a red headed woman facing off against a rodian and a slime ball. The rodian had pulled a disruptor, and the woman hadn't noticed. Ijaat leapt, spinning around the side of the table and his left arm coming up. A hidden micro-dart launcher, each dart coated with a particularly virulent poison, was concealed in the prosthetic arm there, as well as the paralysis beam inherent in it. The gamorrean was hit three times in the throat with the darts, and began squealing in agony almost immediately, veins purpling as the toxin made it's way through it. And the Rodian? He was hit with a green beam as the arm shifted to reveal the paralysis beam in it, and the last two darts hit him in the belly.

The ori'ramikad strode forward as the prosthetic hummed with full charge, and he had spared time to nod to Ember to watch his back, and had sat the flask of tihaar in front of the fancy new player, and he smiled thinly, his other arm gently tapping the back shoulder of the woman. The accent sounded like she had spent some time on Concord Dawn, or maybe in that region, so he took a gamble and spoke Mando'a to the fiery lady.

"Udessi, ner vod... Why was the pig thrown through our wall into our game?"

 

[Shia Kryze]

"Shia Kryze. And I thought the game was getting a little dull." Shia replied to her interloculator, before almost casually turning to view the next bout of explosive violence.

Very shortly, all of Chaos was about to descend upon this casino, and Shia should know.

Paused for one moment, then laughed abruptly as she heard [member="Ijaat Mereel"]'s voice.

"This galaxy is very small, you know that friend?" She asked almost casually. "You keep an eye on that particular crazy Jedi, I just need to check on something."

She took a couple of steps forward to glance into both of the private rooms not occupied by... well... actually, it turns out almost every room was occupied by a Jedi and a crazy fight, if not quite in the same sense. Oh, whatever, roll with it.

"Su cuy'gar Master Mereel" Hard not to put irony into that statement, but there was a remarkable lack of emnity, she nodded to the unknown red-head. "Ner vod, lovely dress." The third person... well, that was strange, she'd never met someone who felt like that. Shame she didn't have a clue what it meant. "Sir."

Oh what the heck, may as well ask the obvious. I mean, how many Jedi Masters, mercenaries and bounty hunters can fit in one Casino? "May I ask if you're with the man outside, before security try and bag and tag us all on sheer principle?"

She didn't even given the Rodian and the blaster a single glance, as if she knew the outcome of that scenario already, which from the feeling in the air, she already did.

[member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Talia Fett"] [member="Ember Rekali"] @D'vok Windroamer

 

[Talia]

Talia turned her head to allow the rukus behind her to be in her peripherals, cursing silently at Griff’s willingness to shoot her in the back. Contract ends were always messy, especially when you cleaned up a lot of mess for a crime lord or two. You knew too much, and regardless of how honourable you were, or how tightly your lips were sealed, they never could trust you to simply walk away.

Fingers worked a second holdout from her thigh and raised it slowly towards the [member="Ijaat Mereel"]. “I appreciate the assistance, but I’d appreciate it more if you stepped back.” She replied in mando’a not taking her eyes off the rodian whose own gaze was flitting about the room looking for an escape, having a fellow mandalorain at your back wasn't necessarily a good thing these days. She pressed the blaster to his forehead, drawing his gaze back to her.

“Did he have any intention of paying me?” He shook his head in reply, and Talia’s expression darkened. “So, he didn’t even bring it?” Another shake of the head, that ended abruptly as she squeezed the trigger leaving a smoking hole through his skull. She lowered both weapons and turned to face the mess behind her. The hole in the wall, the cracked dejarick table and the two other bodies. That was an expensive mess. Her gaze slid over the players on the other side before coming to settle upon the man who’d saved her.

“Vor’e.” she said finally. “I’m sorry to have disturbed-”

"Su cuy'gar Master Mereel."

Whatever words came out of the newcomers mouth then was lost to the blood rushing in her ears. Mereel…

A thousand memories seemed to rush past her mind, her homestead in ruins, her parents killed by the earthquakes, her brother losing his leg. The madness that drove him to fight for Ra, facing him on the battlefield…

Talia blinked and both blaster snapped up, levelling at the Slayer of Mandalore, he might have just saved her skin, but what was that against the thoughtless murder of thousand?

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you, demagolka.”

[member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Ember Rekali"] [member="Vilhelm Balfour"]

 

[The Master With No Name]

The Wookie came down on the Old Master flinging on of its massive fists. The old Jedi didn't let the fist meet its target. Rule number one of fighting Wookies - don't get hit. Pushing the Force into his feet he slid to the side in a blur of motion. Just as he landed to the side of the Wookie, the Old Master's matukai kata hand motions channelled the force into his palms and by touching the ends of his palms together he thrust the bubbled up Force into a blast that pummelled the Wookie's side rib. The blast hit the Wookie causing him to buckle beneath his off-center weight, the rest of the blast that cut past his body up turned the tables behind him. However, the Wookie did not go down and instead lunged forward to regain his footing. The Old Master still in the lat position he was in when he delivered the Force Blast was cut off-guard.

"Sheez." the Old Master coughed right as the regrouped Wookie landed a heavy punch right across chest. The air squeezed from his lung and the Old Master fell to the floor in a heap coughing up phlegm and strained breathes. It took all his power not to go unconscious. Meanwhile the Trandoshan and his posse were up on their feet. The reptilian alien race master barks at his bodyguards to escort them out. Still recovering from the blow the Old Master was grasping at whatever was around to prop himself up. At this point, the constable and his security officer came up to the private gambler's lounge as well. The constable looked at the Old Master and pointed.

"There's the bastard blast him!" he growled. The security officers levelled their blasters and let out a flurry of red blaster fire. The Old Master reached his hand out and with the remaining Force summoned his lightsaber. It was a modest hilt. Plain silver with limited design decoration. The lightsaber sucked into his palm and with a press of the ignition button a bright green beam burst out. Diagonal cuts and weaving swipes sent the blaster fire into the floor. The Wookie froze in place. No one had said he was fighting a plasma sword.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWo__6Xn6Qs​

The Old Master got up. He was surrounded. But like the warrior he was he took a deep breathe and exhaled. He then gripped his lightsaber with both his hands held it above his head poised to deliver a blow to the first foe to make a move. A pressure settled between the group. Out of the corner of one of his blue eyes the Old Master watched the Trandoshan leave. The Old Master smacked his lips in annoyance.

"Well." said the Old Master to the group. "What's it going to be?"

The Wookie growled and bared his teeth.The Constable held his pose with his hand up ready to call another volley of blaster fire. They stood for a moment and watched each other. They looked for the slightest movements - the twitch of a finger, the dart of an eye, the bead of sweat slithering down the temple and cheek. The Wookie rose his hands slowly his fingers bent like furry claws and narrowed his big brown eyes on the Old Master. The security officers holding their blasters tried to discipline their triggers even though their instincts screamed to fire. The Old Master did nothing, he said nothing, he was a void of activity and aura. Instead, through the Force he projected a defensive bubble of force powered will. It discouraged all around him, and loomed over the lounge like a heavy cloud. The trio just watched each other.

The the Old Master broke the intense calm in a sudden sweep of his arm. He sent the lightsaber flying in a whirling arc across the Constable and his Security Officers slicing into the blasters and flying into them causing their formation to break into wild movements of duck and cover. Distracted, the Wookie flinched. That was all the Old Master needed leaping forward he brought the Force into his fist and returned the favour. Through Force Powered musculature the Old Master bashed his fist into the Wookie's side temple knocking the gaint beast on his butt and into a table. For the Old Master the punch worked but, a little too well. His knuckles snapped and fist cracked bleeding profusely. Calling back his blade with his now one good hand the Old Master turned to the stun crowd.

Beside him where a trio who had their game interrupted. The Old Master marched over to a particularly annoyed patron ([member="Ember Rekali"]). "The Trandoshan did you see him?"


[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Ember Rekali"] @D'vok Windroamer [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Talia Fett"]

 

[Ember Rekali]

[member="Talia Fett"] [member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="The Master With No Name"]

Violence and voices filled the semi-private sabacc room. Ember didn't so much as look up. When his cards randomized to a decent twenty-one, he Alderaaned and claimed the small hand pot. The handful of high-denomination chips vanished into his pockets.

The ragged Jedi stomped into Ember's immediate sphere of influence. Ember stood and met his eyes evenly, one old man to another.

"No, I haven't seen a Trandoshan. Excuse me."

He brushed past the Jedi en route to the door, ignoring the potential violence all around.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Calm. He wasn't nervous. Nor was he scared, he just closed his honey colored eyes and walked forward in the same direction as Ember. To all onlooking, his weathered and bearded face had not a care in the world to see on it. While walking towards the blaster, he flicked a card to [member="Vilhelm Balfour"] with a nod. The good deed was done, and no matter how pretty the girl, he didn't court Death as his lady any more. As he walked past, the blaster seemed to make a slight tink in time with Ijaat coming close, along with a swelling in the Force around him, sharp and short, but powerful. A wan smile, and an almost knowing wink to Talia as he did, shaking his head with a tsk...

"Sounds like your heating coil was over done, and either it busted, or someone cracked the vent switchback and control to it. Nasty point of failure in that particular model. You fire it now, you're pulling the pin on a very big and nasty grenade. I might die. You most certainly will. Or you can meet me at Dock 26 and I'll fix it and tell you a story. Happens I'm a smith and gun maker. And then, if you like still, I'll let you kill me with my own gun or beskad. Promise. Or you can leave here. Or just stand there until security arrests you. They travel in veritable swarms. Vor'e for not murdering me in cold blood, vod."

The last was said as he exited the same way as [member="Ember Rekali"], towards the docks. And not once had the orirami'kad showed a flicker of hesitation of fear. Death was an awaited release from penance, he would not seek it because doing so betrayed his duty to those he had betrayed in his madness. But he would greet it gladly when it came.

[member="Talia Fett"]