Faction Can't Read my Poker Face [Black Sun & Ask for Invite]

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Kinley Pryse will pay you for your misery, or she'll sell you someone's pain​

Neon bled through the cracked transparisteel windows of The Broken Spire, painting the smoke-choked air in bruised purples and gutter-gold. Nar Shaddaa never slept, it just got louder, and tonight it throbbed with the familiar pulse of bad decisions and worse company. The kind of place where credits vanished, tempers flared, and nobody asked questions they didn't want answered.

The poker table squatted in the center of the bar like a challenge.

Kinley Pryse sat slouched in her chair, boots hooked around the rungs, hat tipped just low enough to shadow her eyes. One hand idly spun a credit chip across her knuckles; the other nursed a half-empty glass of non alcoholic lum she'd been pretending to sip for the last ten minutes. She looked relaxed. That was the trick. Kinley always looked relaxed right up until someone realized they'd already lost.

Across from her, a Weequay bruiser growled under his breath as the dealer slid the cards out. To her left, a spice runner with twitchy fingers kept glancing at her stack like he could will it into his own pile. To her right, a sharply dressed woman with a blaster under her coat smiled too much and blinked too little.

Kinley smiled back.

The pot swelled. Credits clinked. A chair scraped somewhere behind her as someone got brave or stupid, sometimes both. The smell of alcohol, ozone, and desperation curled through the air like a familiar friend.

She flicked her cards up just enough to peek, lips twitching.

Not bad.

Not great.

Perfect.

"Easy game," Kinley said lightly, tossing in her bet. "Almost makes you forget we're on Nar Shaddaa."

The Weequay snorted. "Nobody forgets that."

"Sure they do," she replied, eyes glinting as the dealer laid down the next card. "That's how the moon makes its money."

A glass shattered somewhere behind them. Laughter followed. Someone cursed in Huttese. The music kicked up half a notch, all bass and bad intentions.

Kinley leaned back, hat tilting as she studied the table, the players, the way their hands hovered just a second too long over their chips.

Tonight wasn't about winning credits.

Tonight was about seeing who blinked first, and what they were willing to lose when they did. She needed connections and a game of cards was a good way to find them!

---

The Game Rules:

• Roll a 100 sided dice
• Highest number wins the hand

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Ekka Batari]

Bootsteps walked into the seedy little cantina. The menacing jangle of riding spurs. A group of four, dressed like the typical rough types of the Outer Rim. While each had his or her individual look, one thing was common among them: a spiky red symbol depicting a vulture-like creature. Crimson Clawbirds, a gang of bandits and outlaws that plagued the Morellian Commonwealth and....."friends" of Black Sun.

"Behave yourselves." came the gravelly drawl of their masked leader, "We ain't on the home turf. Show these Nar Shaddaans your best manners."

The group split up to enjoy different activities. A couple went to drink. Another to play at some holo-darts. The masked man, Rellan Brax, tilted his head at the table where he recognized a face there. He had only seen her once or twice at Black Sun meet ups. He strided and took up residency of a vacant spot at the table.

"Miss Pryse." He nodded, almost tipping his hood in a gentlemanly fashion, "Dealer, slice me in at the next round. Glad to a different game of cards. All my crew knows how play is sabaac. And that gets a might tirin' after a moon or so."

He pulled back his hood, and then disengaged his mask. Helmet came off with a hiss of pressured air breaking a seal, and was carefully placed by his side of the table. A red-haired man with a wild beard, looking apparretly human. He flashed a grin.

"S'only fair." He chuckled "Been called many things, but I reckon I ain't gonna be called a cheat at cards."

TAG: Kinley Pryse​

 

[Rath’Kandos Farr]

O B J E C T I V E - P O K E R | R E A D - M Y - F A C E
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​

Suribran bent over the poker table, a sly grin spreading across his face. Rather than examining his cards with both hands, he chose to lift the edges slightly with a single long finger to catch a glimpse. The deep scars on his face tightened as he released a raspy groan, fully aware that gambling on Nar Shaddaa could lead to a very deadly conclusion by night's end.

He had heard Ekka Batari announce himself, but the mining magnate didn't turn around just yet. He was too busy calculating the odds and the people sitting at the table. To his side sat none other than Kinley Pryse , the most infamous criminal in the galaxy according to the Black Sun's estimates, and while she acted relaxed so far, there was a distinct smell of ambition.

It was a scent he knew well from the boardrooms of the Offworld Mining Corporation and the Trigdale-Karflo Mining Consortium, both successful companies that the Ishi Tib mogul operated.

"The next round will be much more... interesting with a leader of...how we say cutthroats joining us," Suribran croaked, his bulbous eyes finally flickering toward Brax. "Though I hope your 'manners' include knowing when you are outmatched, Captain."

He turned his attention back to the current pot. He reached into a silk pouch at his belt and pulled out a handful of high-denomination chips, tossing them into the center with a careless flick of his wrist. It was a bet designed to make the twitchy spice runner fold and to see if Kinley had the stomach for a real fight.

"Your move, Miss Pryse. Or is the air getting a bit thin for you?"

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Kinley's blend of spice is an easy thing to buy. All you've got to be is twenty-one... or fifteen if you lie.​

"Miss Pryse." He nodded, almost tipping his hood in a gentlemanly fashion, "Dealer, slice me in at the next round. Glad to a different game of cards. All my crew knows how play is sabaac. And that gets a might tirin' after a moon or so."

Kinley still wasn't used to hearing her own name on other people's lips. In this outfit, she was nobody, just another runner doing Flint's dirty work, pushing spice and keeping her head down. And yet… people were starting to know her. Starting to remember her. Whether that was a blessing or a death sentence remained to be seen.

"Aye, we're mixin' it up tonight." She motioned for him to take a seat, her attention drifting back to the Ishi Tib across the table. The alien's pale green skin was littered with old scars, his voice rough as rusted metal. He had the look of someone with deep pockets, and those were always her favorite kind.

"Your move, Miss Pryse. Or is the air getting a bit thin for you?"

Kinley laughed softly and tossed her chips into the pot. "Air's just fine," she said easily. "Fat and happy… just like me." Tonight wasn't about winning. Not really. Losing a few hands didn't matter if it bought the right introductions.

She laid her cards down with a crooked smile. The Ishi Tib had a strong hand, but hers was stronger.

"Well then," she said, glancing toward the red-haired man nearby as she scooped her winnings into her own pile. "let's see how our new friend plays." She indicated that the red haired man should join them at the table.


Ekka Batari Rath’Kandos Farr


((newcomers feel free to join and roll anytime! You can assume you are already at the table or just approaching! Very open!))

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade entered the Black Spire with the easy familiarity of someone moving through the rooms of their own home. She could not recall whether she had ever been here before, but it hardly mattered. New players were stepping onto a board set in motion years ago, and tonight the game might gain another chapter.

Contacts had always mattered. Somehow, against all odds, the Sithling had managed to cultivate more than a few, even during the lowest points of her life. One of them, she hoped, would arrive tonight bearing something she wanted. A fragment, or failing that, a lead. A step closer to the next fragment. She was beginning to believe the long, maddening quest she had committed herself to was finally nearing its end, and not a moment too soon. Under normal circumstances, she would have abandoned it long ago, but something within her kept pressing forward, insisting she see it through.

Her contact had chosen this place of all places. Shady casinos and dark alleyways no longer sufficed for discreet dealings. Now the fashion was to conduct business in plain sight, hidden by noise, light, and indifference. Scherezade could adapt. She always did. Team player, or team killer. That choice would be left to her contact.

So here she was, weaving toward the bar. Her glowing green gaze flicked briefly toward a poker table where a handful of strangers sat engrossed in their game ( Kinley Pryse , Rath’Kandos Farr , Ekka Batari ). For a fleeting moment, she considered joining them.

She dismissed the thought just as quickly.

Let the fools keep their credits.

For now.

 

[Jacen Terrik]

Location: Neon Spire, Nar Shaddaa

Jacen had no business being in a place like Nar Shaddaa.

Well… not no business, just not legal business.

It started as a typical supply run. The client was an unremarkable Pantoran from lower League territory who needed some cargo delivered to the Smuggler’s Moon. A few crates of textiles, a bag or two of foodstuffs. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not until he entered Bothan space for a pit stop. Fancy orbital scanners peered through the thickets cargo holds as easy as looking through a shear curtain. Jacen’s no idiot—he had a lead-lined hull specifically designed to combat prying eyes.

He just didn’t account for someone as advanced as the Bothan Spynet taking a peek.

In hindsight, it was no surprise that his contact had slipped a case of fine cut sansanna into the shipment. It was also no surprise that the Bothans were overly vigilant these days, what with the Sith growing uncontested and Black Sun following suit.

Luckily, his hyperdrive was just as upgraded as his hull.

Jacen skipped Bothawui, barely making it to the edge of Hutt Space before landing at a forgotten watering hole on a backwater planet he couldn’t remember the name of. Needless to say, the tired spacer was long overdue for a strong drink and a good game of cards by the time he finally arriver on Nar Shaddaa. His cargo hold was empty and his pocket was full of credits. Time to unwind.

He spotted a table that seemed open enough and decided to snag a seat before they filled up. One hand went up to order a drink. The other tapped two fingers on the table. Cards were slid his way, but Jacen wasn’t in a rush to read them. Instead, he held them lazily in his hand while he eyed the other players.

“Hope you don’t mind if I join you,” he charmed, clearly intending to play whether they liked it or not. His narrowed playfully. “Are we playing for keeps, or just for fun?”

Tags: Kinley Pryse | Ekka Batari | Scherezade deWinter | Rath’Kandos Farr​

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

The deck stacks itself when Kinley Pryse sits down​

Kinley swirled the ice in her mocktail, watching it catch the light like cut glass, when a shadow fell across the table. She didn't look up right away. She didn't have to. New energy always announced itself, too eager, too loud in the air.

When she finally lifted her gaze, her eyes traveled over him slowly, deliberately, from polished boots to that half-smile men got when they thought they were about to win something. Or someone. A smirk curved her lips as her opinion of him settled neatly into place.

He asked if he could join them.

Didn't wait for an answer.

Kinley liked that.

A chair scraped back, cards shuffled, and the dealer slid him into the next round like fate had been expecting him all along. Kinley leaned back, one arm draped lazily over her chair, watching him from beneath lowered lashes.

"So," he said, glancing around the table before his eyes landed on her, "are we playing for keeps… or just for fun?"

Kinley laughed softly, a low, warm sound that carried just enough promise to be dangerous. She reached forward and placed her cards on the table, not facedown, not yet, just enough to make a point. Her fingers were steady. Always steady.

"Darlin'," she said, tilting her head, eyes gleaming, "I always play for keeps."

An eyebrow arched, slow and deliberate, a silent challenge wrapped in silk and steel. Around the table, the room seemed to hold its breath.

Kinley smiled. Then she overturned her hand, revealing her own cards.


Jacen Terrik

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Jacen Terrik]

Location: Neon Spire, Nar Shaddaa

“Oh- uh, damn?” Jacen breathed, deflated a bit. Not a great look to lose on the first draw, but hey, maybe she’d think he was a hustler and not an idiot.

Or both, honestly. Just not idiot all on its own.

He flicked the cards toward the dealer and happily accepted replacements. The night was young and nobody was looking for him (as far as he was aware), so he decided to get good and settled. And that included getting familiar with his opponents.

“I know that names aren’t exactly a freely traded commodity here, but surely there’s something more interesting I could call you than “Cowgirl,” right?”

He’d go with it, if he had to. And to avoid being accused of something, Jacen posed the same question to the rest of the table.

“Anyone have a name, or is this a club meeting for Broody Gamblers Anonymous?”

Tags: Kinley Pryse | Ekka Batari | Scherezade deWinter | Rath’Kandos Farr​

 

[Rath’Kandos Farr]

O B J E C T I V E - P O K E R | R E A D - M Y - F A C E
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​

Suribran grumbled with frustration as Kinley Pryse collected the credits from the previous round, effortlessly outsmarting him to secure her victory in Sabaac. Her calm demeanor suggested she was no novice at these games, and it was evident that he needed to rethink his approach to ensure he kept his credits safe.

He had enough to continue playing, as long as the pots didn't increase in size, and so he peaked his cards as a newcomer arrived at the table, known as Jacen Terrik . It didn't take a brilliant mind to realize that this man was a charming nerf-herder, possessing more luck than wisdom, attempting to use humor as a means to lower the defenses of the other players.

Broody Gamblers Anonymous. Suribran let out a wet, rasping laugh.

"You can call me Suribran," he croaked, his bulging eyes fixed on his new cards. "And I can guarantee you, there's nothing anonymous about losing on Nar Shaddaa. It carries a very distinct… scent" and soon the man might discover that scent, if the Ishi Tib concluded that a blaster would resolve a losing streak.

After all, if his rivals were eliminated, then the entire pot would belong to him. He once again reached into a silk pouch secured to his belt and pulled out a handful of chips, tossing them into the center.

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

If her luck was a drug, Kinley Pryse would sell it by the gram​

"I know that names aren't exactly a freely traded commodity here, but surely there's something more interesting I could call you than "Cowgirl," right?"

She didn't answer right away. Instead, Kinley Pryse let the moment stretch, long enough to make him wonder if he'd misstepped. Then she tipped her hat just enough for the brim to cast a shadow over her eyes, fingers deft as she skimmed a handful of credits from her ever-growing pile and flicked them back into the center of the table.

"Kinley Pryse," she said at last, smooth as silk and twice as sharp.

"And I can guarantee you, there's nothing anonymous about losing on Nar Shaddaa. It carries a very distinct… scent"

"In that case, it looks like I smell finer than aged Corellian whiskey." She flashed a grin and sat her cards down once again. Kinley's grin came slow and dangerous, the kind that had ended more than one bad idea. She played her hand, knuckles relaxed, confidence absolute.

Jacen Terrik Rath’Kandos Farr​

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Jacen Terrik]

Location: Neon Spire, Nar Shaddaa

Kriffing gundark shit was the colorful thought that struck his mind, but Jacen’s mouth relayed a rather respectable, “Dammit,” by comparison.

He was really leaning into the hustler-not-an-idiot persona now. Hopefully just not so much that he ‘hustled’ away all his credits for a decent bunk room somewhere in the city. Sleeping on the Firefly wasn’t so bad—it was free, for starters—but there’s something about a real nice bed on solid ground that makes the bones feel so good after weeks in the cockpit.

“I’m Jacen,” he supplied after hearing their respective introductions. His Corellian accent likely spoke for itself, so he skipped the hometown talk and drew his next hand.

As he took them, he pushed some more chitchat.

“Any good bunkhouses around here? I’d rather not sleep in the space boat tonight, if I can help it.”

Tags: Kinley Pryse | Ekka Batari | Scherezade deWinter | Rath’Kandos Farr​

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

When Kinley Pryse falls it won't be in a line​

"Any good bunkhouses around here? I'd rather not sleep in the space boat tonight, if I can help it."

Kinley had a fairly precise idea of where she intended to suggest he spend the night, an idea that involved softer lighting, better drinks, and considerably fewer witnesses, but she was enjoying the gambling foreplay far too much to reveal that particular card just yet. Anticipation, after all, was half the game. Maybe more.

Instead, she drew again, slow and deliberate, letting the cards fan out between her fingers as if they'd always belonged there. One by one, she slid them into alignment, her eyes never leaving his face. As she did, she casually flicked a few more credits into the pot, the clink sharp and confident, an unspoken promise that she was nowhere near finished.

"Aye," she said lightly, as though the idea had only just occurred to her. "I can give you the grand tour after the game."

When the round turned, she set her hand down with an ease that suggested she already knew the outcome. His winning cards stared back at her, bold and undeniable. Kinley didn't look impressed, only amused. A slow smirk tugged at her mouth as she leaned back in her chair, one brow lifting in appraisal.

"If you keep playing like that," she said, voice warm and dangerous all at once, "I may even take you to the fancy side of town."

The words lingered, half challenge, half invitation, just enough to make him wonder whether he was winning the game… or being carefully, delightfully played.


Jacen Terrik

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Jacen Terrik]

Location: Neon Spire, Nar Shaddaa

"There's a fancy side of Nar Shaddaa?" Jacen mused. New Vertica came to mind, but it was basically corpo town these days. The Hutt Space Corporate Exchange setup shop not too long ago, and Jacen knew better than to meddle with their business. He learned that the hard way running jobs for a Prex on Bonadan.

He cleared his throat, realizing his question was probably rude.

"That's not to say it can't have a fancy side. I'm sure it has a fancy side. Uh- cards?" he fumbled, pushing words out faster than the dealer droid could spin 'round and top him off. He glanced at his drink with quiet suspicion that the Hutts either poured heavy or sprinkled a little surprise in their cocktails.

Either way, he flashed Kinley a redeeming smile as he studied his cards. He looked up over them, past Kinley to a pair of guards patrolling the floor. Purple armor, gold trim, spiky emblem tattooed on the forehead—charming, by the way—these guys must be Black Sun. Jacen hadn't ran with them directly before, at least not as far as he knew. He wondered to what degree Kinley was involved, if any at all. Maybe she'd make a good contact for the future, or maybe she didn't know bantha shit about the syndicate. Maybe she'd shoot him just for asking.

He took a sip, letting the liquid courage warm up his insides before chancing a question.

"Nar Shaddaa's not Hutt territory anymore, or so I hear." Start off slow, then go for the dive.

"I hear it belongs to a new syndicate. Well, not new-new, but new to the neighborhood."

He placed his cards down, then flicked his eyes from the table to Cowgirl. He knew more than he let on, and she'd probably intuit as much. But playing the fool had saved Jacen's hide more than once, and he wasn't going to stop feigning ignorance now.

Tags: Kinley Pryse | Ekka Batari | Scherezade deWinter​

 

[Gillem]

GILLEM

Theme​

The building retracted the light that touched it as rain fell gently outside. Neon signs always alight, drawing in eyes. Though the lights were pretty that was the only surface alluring of Nar Shaddaa. He had been on Tatooine for years, living the small life, enjoying being out of the force for a while until something had called him back out.

Now, he was on this filthy dingy planet, rife with thievery, bribes, spices and other odd ends that most would deem…ill mannered.

Gillem was not here for pleasure, not exactly business either. The trail had led him here. And right now he could use a drink and a nice round of cards to unwind.

He stepped inside, the door hissing as it opened. His body silhouetted by the neon outside as the sound of rain fell behind him, smoke curled from his sweet tabac, bleeding into the room with a new scent. His revolvers clung to his belt over his hips, the belt buckle shone with a Morellian Ranger's star. A life that he had left a while ago but refused to forget.

He slowly walked in, his boots tapping on the floor as he walked around tables towards the game table. Quiet until he approached.

“Ya got space for one more?”

He reached into his coat, pulling out a credit chip with his mechanical hand, his mechanical eye flared dimly as it identified each person at the table and their possible bounties, but he was not here to collect.

He took a deep inhale of his cigarette and slowly exhaled, tipping a hat at them before slowly sitting down with them.

Kinley Pryse | Ekka Batari | Scherezade deWinter | Jacen Terrik | Rath’Kandos Farr​

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Kinley Pryse is in for life because legends never retire, they just get crazier with time​

Kinley's lopsided smile deepened as he stumbled over his words, clearly worried he'd offended her. He tried to pivot, awkwardly into a conversation about Black Sun instead.

Civilized people were adorable.

"Aye. The slugs aren't the big fish anymore. That's true."

She revealed her hand with a lazy flourish, grin widening as the cards fell neatly into her favor. "You looking to make contact with the sharks in these waters?"

She took a slow sip of her mocktail. Some might've mistaken it for liquid courage, but there was no alcohol in the glass, this confidence was all Kinley. Swagger and bravado were simply the armor she wore to swim in shark-infested seas without bleeding.

She was about to continue when an officer drifted up beside the table, a polished golden badge catching the light like a flare in the dark. Well. This should be interesting. He asked to join; Kinley gave a small nod as he pulled out a chair.

She swept the credits toward her with practiced ease while fresh bets clinked onto the table and the droid began to deal again.

"What brings you to these parts, officer?" She rolled that last word, with a glance straight at the man that showed she was ready for trouble if he intended to start some.


Jacen Terrik Gillem

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Gillem]

GILLEM

He took a slow drag of his cigarette, taking it in deep before finally exhaling. He watched Kinley pull the credits towards her as the droid dealt fresh cards. The table already seemed nervous before, though he didn’t catch anything that had happened before walking in. His eyes turned towards her at her officer remark.

He paused for a moment as her question hung in the air, before he softly spoke to the table.

“...Retired…”

A half truth. He didn’t retire, he left for personal reasons, fulfilled those reasons and tried to live quietly on tatooine, before he was called back out again by fate itself.

“No need to worry your head. The star is only to remember where I’ve been.”

He plucked the butt of the rolled paper from his lips and crushed it into his metal palm. Almost in a smooth fluid motion he reached into his coat pocket for his pack to pull another roll out, placing it on his lips. His mechanical thumb flicked back kicking up a small blue flame that he used to light his second cigarette. He offered the pack forward to anyone who wanted to partake.

“Hand rolled. It ain't spice or death sticks, but it helps calm the nerves. Some of you might need that for this game.”

He spoke quietly, just loud enough to reach the table as his eyes looked at each face around him.

Kinley Pryse | Ekka Batari | Scherezade deWinter | Jacen Terrik | Rath’Kandos Farr​

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Heroes save the day. Kinley Pryse sells it back at a markup.
​

Kinley gave a lazy nod toward the droid, and it whirred to life, metallic fingers shuffling the deck with practiced precision. In this part of the galaxy, nobody trusted anybody, not with credits, not with cards. That was why the dealing was always left to something that didn't lie, cheat, or hold grudges.

The droid slid the cards into her hands. Kinley barely glanced at them at first, casually sorting the deck, flicking one card down, pulling another back into place as if she were rearranging thoughts rather than a hand.

"If you're looking to spend your pension here, Officer," she said lightly, "I won't stop you."

She didn't feel a flicker of guilt about it. Retirement funds, police pay, hard-earned or not, credits were credits. And if a former cop was foolish enough to gamble them away at her table, that was just another lesson the galaxy was happy to teach.

Gillem

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Gillem]

GILLEM

He watched the droid shuffle and deal the cards, sliding towards his hand. He took a peek at them and flicking them into place. The smoke curled from his cigarette, winding smoke hung and clung to the light above them and he sat back, exhaling a bit.

“On the contrary, Ms.Pryse. I don’t have a pension. But I will take your credits.”

His gaze met hers, looking her dead in the eye, unflinching. A cold calculation running over both his normal and prosthetic eye. The eye could in theory look into the cards to give him an edge, but that just took the fun out of risk.

He placed some more credits into the pot.

“Whats your call?”

Kinley Pryse​

 

[Kinley Pryse]

You've been hit by... you've been struck by...

Kinley Pryse has a moral code. It's just… very flexible​

Kinley flicked a few more credit chips into the pot, the soft clatter punctuating the moment. When they both revealed their cards, it was clear he'd taken the hand. She didn't react right away. Instead, she lifted her glass and took an unhurried sip of her mocktail, the rim brushing her lips as her eyes stayed locked on his, her expression cool, assessing, and just a little amused.

"Good hand," she said at last. Credit where credit was due, after all.

The dealer droid whirred softly as it gathered the cards and began to deal again. Kinley accepted her new hand, fanning the cards out with practiced ease, already rearranging them with lazy confidence.

"So," she said casually, not bothering to look up yet, "is this how you always spend your retirement?" One corner of her mouth curved into a teasing smile as she finally glanced back at him. "Gambling in backwater joints like this?"



Gillem

A Smooth Criminal

 

[Gillem]

GILLEM

“Luck of the draw you could say.”

He spoke quietly as he looked down at their cards taking the win for the round.

“Usually people tend to get a bit cocky, believing that their first hand will see them through to the end of the game.”

The next set of cards drifted lazily over the table towards him once more, and he sucked in a deep lungful of the tabac he had with him, exhaling slowly as she spoke, asking of his free time.

“Not as much as I used to. Back on Tatooine, sometimes that was the only way you could get any money around.”

He flicked a few more credits into the pot then sat back in his chair, relaxed.

“You had to learn a thing or two about cards to get by sometimes.”

He flicked the ashes of his cigarette into the nearby ashtray as a small droid came by, muttering a bit of gibberish. Gillem looked at it with a calm nonchalantness before he spoke.

“Whiskey.”

The droid quickly whirred and set off to fetch his drink.

“And what about you, Ms.Pryse. someone of your stature certainly shows they know more about this game than they're letting on in such a hole in the wall place.”

He looked at his cards.

A smirk came to his lips as he called.

"As I said, first hands luck."

Kinley Pryse​