Private Delt A Good Hand In Life

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

Slinger was enjoying himself, he was doing his three favourite things, drinking, playing cards and telling stories. Oh and thanks to his partner at the table he was dealing cards to, they were winning.

"So there I was gun belt round my ankles, in a non too compromising position I might tell you when, pow two Gamorrean thugs working for a local Hutt barged in." James exclaimed to his enraptured audience.

"Just deal the cards Slinger" One man sighed.

"Aw but we're getting to the best part! So anyway where was I? Oh right! So there I was gun belt round my ankles in a non too compromising position, when two Gamorrean thugs barged in."

"Dammit Slinger just deal the cards!" The man interrupted and exclaimed.

Slinger scowled, he hated it when someone interrupted just before the climax. It was just plain rude. Still the story had served it's purpose whether to entertain or enrage the object was to distract. To have them so focused on Slinger and whatever he was spewing they didn't notice that his partner in cahoots was getting all the high cards. Slinger shuffled the deck theatrically taking his sweet time about it, only enraging the man further.

Slinger eventually relented dealing the cards making sure the enraged man, Slinger thought his name was Phaelix got the low end and Thalira Kiing got the high card.

"Anyway, now that the cards have been dealt back to the story" Slinger said "So there I was gun belt around my ankles, when two Gamorrean thugs-

"This is Bantha poodoo!" The man said enraged at his hand "I've never had this much bad luck in my life."

Phaelix threw his cards down on the table.

"Now now friend we all have a bad run now and then, perhaps your luck will change. They say Lady Luck is a fickle mistress, and I should know-"

"Krak you Slinger you and your Bantha poodoo shpiel! All you do is talk! I'll shut that loud mouth for good!" Phaelix declared, he reached for his blaster. Slinger showed the other reason he got his name, and had his blaster out first, trained dead eye on Phaelix.

"Now now Phaelix." Slinger said softly steel in his voice.

Phaelix swallow and slowly removed his hand.

"I think you're done for the night friend, why don't you get some air."

Phaelix stalked off in a huff.

"But perhaps he's right. I've been holding up the table, how rude of me. What about you young lady? Tell me about yourself?"

Slinger turned to his partner in crime keeping up the act that they didn't know each other, and in truth they didn't know each other well. James had gotten drunk with her just the other night and mentioned in passing while telling one of his stories that he was a sly hand at cards. Next thing you know they're pulling a con together.

 

[Thalira Kiing]

The cantina reeked of desperation and the galaxy's underbelly. The usual suspects were there—smugglers hiding from the law, mercenaries grabbing a drink between jobs, and, of course, the poor souls convinced they were only one lucky hand away from making a quick cred.

Those were the targets tonight.

Thalira Kiing sat at the sabacc table, lazily nursing a glass she'd been working on for most of the evening. Beside her sat a bottle of expensive Galactic Vintage brandy that was probably worth more than some of the patrons in the cantina. To the untrained eye, she'd left it carelessly perched right there on the table.

But very little about Thalira was careless.

From her deep red shoulderless dress and elegantly braided hair to the practiced confidence she wore like jewelry, she had crafted the image of a wealthy socialite hopelessly out of her depth. Most people saw a spoiled rich girl with too much confidence, too much money, and not nearly enough sense.

Exactly what she wanted them to see.

"Tell you about myself?" Thalira echoed Slinger's question with a smile that practically asked, 'Of course you want to know about me.'

"Where do I start?" she mused, loud enough for the surrounding patrons to overhear, but subtle enough not to seem desperate for attention. "I'm from Coruscant. Upper levels, obviously. Daddy's a politician with far too much money and nowhere near enough personality. I got tired of all the galas and speeches, so I came out here looking for adventure."

She paused, swirling the amber liquid in her glass.

"Thought maybe I'd open a casino someday. But I wanted the authentic experience first." A grin tugged at her lips. "Turns out I'm a natural."

She said those last words with entirely too much confidence—as though arrogance, beginner's luck, and a challenge had all somehow become one and the same.

Finally, she reached across the table and gathered the pile of credit chips from the very fair game she and Phaelix had just played. With meticulous care, she sorted them into neat little stacks before casually placing a handful of chips back into the pot.

Leaning back in her chair, she sighed dramatically.

"What does a girl have to do to find a decent opponent around here, Mister Slinger?"

The question hung in the air like an invitation.

An invitation for someone to prove themselves.

An invitation to humble the overconfident rich girl from Coruscant.

Unfortunately for them, the cards had a funny habit of favoring her.

James 'Slinger' Antilles