Luck be a Lady

[Progflaw99]

​

Location: The Golden Mynock, Warehouse District​

Objective: R&R​

- - -​

​

The small group of friends had arrived only several minutes ago, their first stop a small watering hole known as The Golden Mynock. Atlas saw why as they arrived. Above the neon signs out front hung a giant shimmering mynock, gilded and shimmering from a small pole above the door. *Well that's subtle.* he thought to himself. Noise from inside had caused him concern at first but as they passed through the doors his fears were alleviated. All around people sat at tables, at the bar, drinking and generally appearing to have a good time. There were a few game tables towards the rear, even a few card tables - sabacc most likely.

Their drinks ordered, they'd chosen a large booth towards the back, able to see the door from where they were. Scooting over to allow the others in, Atlas spoke.

"So, any of you lot have any major plans? We don't have anywhere to be for at least a couple days."​

​

He raised an eyebrow, a questioning look across his features. As for himself, he had a lot of alcohol to catch up on. Back to back operations in various parts of the Outer Rim had necessitated a severe lack of libation - a problem he hoped soon to rectify.

[member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="Lee Tanos"] | [member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Greyanna Elvanshalee"] | @The Rebellion & Friends, Open
​

 

[Chedi Iqari]

Chedi sidled up to the bar to get something to drink. He and Mr. Xeshve had been laying low since their escapades on Manas. First, it took a little while for them to even get off of that dust-ball, what with having to pay for repairs for the Trailblazer.

Second,, Chedi had frankly been rattled by the experience and hadn't wanted to jump back into the smuggler's life. He wasn't sure he was cut out for all of the blood. He still had nightmares from Manas.

But, their funds were starting to run low and it was time to start looking for work. Maybe some liquid courage could help him out while he waited for Mr. Xevshe to finish negotiations so that they could keep The Trailblazer at the local port - apparently there was some ordinance about housing "pieces of junk" in the bays. Chedi had walked away as Mr. Xevshe had started the "negotiation".

[member="Thuumal Xevshe"]

 

[Mariya Pyne]

Beneath a dusty lamp sat a girl wearing a flight vest, a few patches stitched into the leather on either side, a cap with which locks of brown were pulled neatly through the back and tied together with a clasp. Couldn't have been more than twenty years old, galactic standard years. Human, definitely. To her right was a thick stack of chips, to the left, a tall glass, now mostly empty, the contents a deep emerald. Likely wine, judging by the shape of the container. Around her sat a group of aliens, including a Rodian, Twi'lek, Bothan, and Kel'Dor. Each of their faces held stone expressions, eyes staring down at the cards in their hands. Some had more chips than others, though it appeared that the Rodian and Human girl had the others at quite the end of their ropes.

The Kel'dor threw down his cards, grunting in disgust as another pot of chips slid into the Rodian's hands with glee. Some kind of comments were muttered between the two, and the brunette grinned wickedly as she eyed the rest of the competition. The air was musty, thick with the scent of nerves and pheromones. Around the establishment a few Zeltrons mingled, likely attempting to swindle or perhaps find a mate of the patrons. Dirty tactics, really.

For a moment brown eyes lifted from her cards to the entryway as a gathering of newcomers entered, taking up their seats not too far away from her own game table. Unfamiliar, and thus she shifted in her seat a moment, hand falling to her thigh to ensure her blaster was at the ready just in case. Places like this had regulars, and when they weren't regulars, they were usually after something, or someone. Mariya hadn't made the best of friends in her recent past, thus the need for protection at all times, especially in these parts.

[member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="Lee Tanos"] | [member="Atlas Viridian"] | [member="Greyanna Elvanshalee"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"]

 

[Kira Vaal]

The Golden Mynock.
Kira had suggested the establishment to meet in after several calls for potential venues had arisen around the channels of the Rebellion, or more specifically the usual crew she ran around with. There had been a large possibility that the Sith, after being hit twice by the upstart rebels had started to pay attention to them and as such they had found themselves pulled out of the operation zone for a small while to allow the heat to die down.

“You know I don’t remember it being so blinged up.” She had slipped when they had first entered the Mynock. Corellia had become a favourite for the Rebellion to fall back upon when things were getting heavy in other occupied space. The independence of the planet, even with the collapse of the Alliance had allowed it a sense of remnant culture amidst a war zone, which allowed the Rebellion to slip in and out without much Imperial notice.
Just the way they liked it.

She had taken a seat next to Atlas, her hands rolling through her hair as the rest took seats around them. It was a strange feeling to have them all sat informally. Usually these faces would be stern and illuminated by some hologram or another, today there were smiles. Worry still, but smiling worry.

“I need to get some major work done to the Falcon.” She mentioned, a shudder rolling down her back at how much the ship had been neglected since the Rebellion had moved into full swing again. A refuel here, a patch job there; it had meant that the severely aged freighter was slowly reverting back to the scrapheap it had every right to be. She just hoped she could change that before it was too late. “A couple of faces I want to catch as well. See if we can get some smuggling alliances for weapon runs before we head back into Sith space.” However her hand moved to the glass in front of her, noting the amber liquid inside, Corellian Fire Ale. “For now however, I want to just catch up with friends.”

For that's what they all were.

Friends.

[member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Atlas Viridian"] |

 

[Setter Ryburn]

The thing about people like Setter, is that the usually found themselves in bad places. Bad places, seedy places. Like Corellia. The former Republic Commando, turned Republic Remnant operator- was currently, winning at cards. Other degenerates. Setter smiled as he raked in the credits, much to the dismay of the other card players. There were a few tables like his, one notably that he flicked his eyes. Pale blue eyes looked around the room.

After Setter won a hefty amount of credits, all he had to do was peel back his jacket- show the Havoc squad patch stitched inside....and the Disruptor pistol underneath. Setter was a cheater, he was a bastard in everything that he did. Fairness wasn't something in his line of work.

He moseyed his way over, spotting a few figures from the Rebel types. His kind of people. Hopeless romantics. He went over to the other game table, folding his wirey arms behind the Bothan, giving the friendly upnod to [member="Mariya Pyne"] and the other players at the game. He pulled his jacket back only slightly, to let Mariya and other players catch a glimpse of the age-old patch inside his jacket.

And the brass knuckles hanging by a clip on his belt. Anyone wanted trouble, Setter was more than willing to give it.

[member="Kira Vaal"] l [member="Mariya Pyne"] l [member="Chedi Iqari"] l [member="Atlas Viridian"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Atlas nodded, hands grasping the large frosted mug at the table. He hadn't much cared what he was drinking, and so he'd rolled the dice - asking the barkeep to give him whatever the house favorite ale was. The pilot wasn't disappointed. As always, he kept a watchful eye on the door but here? It was unlikely they could get into any more trouble than usual. It's not like they had chosen to congregate on a Sith world or a First Order world. Atlas noticed the subtle bulge of a blaster beneath a coat here, the gentle rustle of fabric against a blade's sheath there but by and large people seemed to mind their own business. Casting an eye towards the game tables Atlas saw a few rough looking fellows along with a woman, embroiled in what appeared to be a somewhat tenuous game of cards.

"Well ladies, gentlemen, I think my chit has a date with lady luck."​

​

By sleight of hand Atlas seemingly produced a credit chit out of nowhere, twirling it between his fingers as he nodded towards the table nearby. It had been a long while since Atlas had the luxury of gambling. Back in Trade Council space it had been forbidden - especially with the threat of the Sith Empire nearby. Frivolous, they'd called it. Atlas preferred to think of it as earned entertainment. Quickly raising the mug to his lips again, Atlas drained it of the ale inside, the carbonation sending a warm burn down his esophagus. Returning the mug to the table with a rather loud slap, he rose and took a few strides towards the game table. Flashing a smile, he waited for the hand to be over before grabbing a seat opposite the woman he'd noticed earlier.

"What's the buy in?" he said, eyeing the other table's occupants.​

​

​

[member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="Lee Tanos"] | [member="Greyanna Elvanshalee"] ​

 

[Mariya Pyne]

The large eyed Rodian looked up, catching glimpse of [member="Atlas Viridian"] now seating himself dangerously close. It was apparent the alien did not appreciate human types, given the look of disdain that smeared his expression the instant the man spoke up. One was bad enough. Now there were two. “Three thousand.” The words were laced with indignant volatility. Not only was there another human at the table, but now he had to contend with yet another player for the game that had been quickly diminishing to a one on one showdown for the prize pool.

Fifteen thousand credits went a long way. Now it would be eighteen.

Though if one was observant, they would see the look of enthusiasm from the others, namely the Kel’Dor that had been doing rather terribly the past few hands. Perhaps there was a chance to oust the new human and recover enough chips to make a startling comeback? Perhaps.

Mariya hardly seemed phased one way or the other. She simply smiled towards the man, nodded, and accepted the cards as the Selkath dealer passed out the Sabacc hand to each of the players. As the cards were passed around another man stepped up behind the Bothan, a bit thuggish in appearance, and sporting a pair of metal braces at the hip. The patch she wasn’t much familiar with, but assumed it was some kind of merc or military branch. Her eyes lingered for only a breath, before falling to the cards before her. Three fingers peeled back the pair passed to her, and she knew this was a bluff hand immediately. +2 and -15.

The Bothan shouted something at [member="Setter Ryburn"] in his native language, clearly intent on getting the man away from potentially seeing his cards whilst standing behind him. Mariya, sitting to the Selkath’s left, was the first to act. With a -13 total she was in a precarious position. Silently the brunette stared at the cards, eyes fixated on their positions. Then with three fingers the girl tossed fifty credits into the hand pot, and twenty-five into the sabacc pot, signaling the end of her bet, before passing over to the rest of the table.

[member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"]

 

[Setter Ryburn]

There are bad people, mean people in the galaxy. Setter happened to be a bad guy who did good things. He was a goon, a brute. A skilled warfighter who coveted violence. He was a violent professional, and not certainly someone you wanted to mouth off to for watching the game. So, Setter crouched over the Bothan. He didn't raise his voice. He just whispered in his ear. The Bothan's pupils dilated.

Partially because Setter was pressing his Disruptor pistol against the Bothan's family jewels under the table, threatening to turn any future generations of the Bothan's into a stain on the floor. Setter kindly explained that he was just watching the game and that men like him didn't take kindly to threats, in any language.

He let the gun and the Bothan go, and leaned back up, confident that nobody important saw him. Or anyone that would do anything, really. Bothan threatened him, he threatened him more. Simple, really. He patted the Bothan on the shoulder and stood back up. He smiled at the girl, and flicked a small coin into his hands. He rotated it now and again, watching the game intently.

The only game that Setter really liked to play was the one for blood, anywho.

[member="Mariya Pyne"] l [member="Atlas Viridian"] l [member="Kira Vaal"] l [member="Chedi Iqari"]

 

[Thuumal Xevshe]

Thuumal Xevshe looked across the docking bay at the chronometer on the wall. He'd been waiting for 15 minutes for the port authority officer to show up. Who knew your ship had to be more functional than not to be allowed to park in this bay. He rolled his eyes at the thought. The Trailblazer was a hunk of junk, but it was Chedi's hunk of junk, so that meant by the transitive property that it was his hunk of junk. No one was going to insult Xevshe's flying scrapheap. Eventually, the port authority officer showed up, and Chedi wandered off.

"No, we don't have a reconstruction permit. You can't reconstruct functional. She flies without killing anyone." Xevshe said to the PA officer, the sarcasm in his voice simultaneously dripping everywhere while being nothing more than a whisper of subtext underlying the technical truth. The Trailblazer's mechanical excellence hadn't killed anyone. Yet.

"Sir, I can't let you park here." The fat rodian groaned. He clearly thought this exercise of authority was as much of a waste of time as the Trailblazer was a flying scrap heap.

"Don't you know who I am? I'm the majordomo for his excellency and captain/lead mechanic of the Trailblazer, Chedi Iqari. He's not someone to takes kindly to mild amounts of bureaucratic red tape. I'd hate to have to force him to get involved" The tone of his voice flashed menacingly for a moment. His pheromones seeped into the air as he let his skin tone soften to a yellow-green and then a muted orange tone. "Besides, we both know you're far too important to be involved in minor scut work like scrap heap patrol duty." He let the flattery hang in the air for a moment. The port authority officer nodded quickly in agreement before departing. Xevshe doubted that his attempts at persuasion were fueled by his pheromones or bluffs. Instead, he suspected that the PA officer really just didn't want to do the paperwork to evict Xevshe and the trailblazer from their current location. No matter.

Xevshe donned his more flashy, regal clothing before departing. Time to see what trouble Chedi was undoubtedly stirring up. After a brief walk down the promenade, he arrived at the cantina and slipped inside. He paused for a moment and scanned the room upon stepping inside. The room was full of people and the air was thick with the scent of new possibilities. Excellent. Now, If only he could find Chedi...

[member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Atlas Viridian"] |[member="Kira Vaal"] |[member="Chedi Iqari"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Atlas took a deep breath, feigning surprise. By the tone of the Rodian's response, he knew he was going to have to tread carefully. A quick glance at the table, then to each of the players, Atlas plugged in the chit to the table's automated credit dispersal system. A gentle chime let them know that the funds had been deposited and in turn, the dealer slid a small stacks of chips to the new join.

"Three thousand it is then."​

​

As the cards were dealt the man watched the others carefully, seeking out any kind of reaction - real or false. Atlas himself kept a rather loose expression, the game was more about reading people than it was knowing the cards. Although come to think of it, it could have been the other way around. In any case, the pilot took a quick peek at the gently upturned corner of his cards before returning them to the table. After the first look, the rule was never touch your cards again except to show them - right? If it had been a casual game back on Centares with a few of the guys he might have folded right there, but with a significant sum in the game, he smiled widely and reached for his chips. Appearing to consider for a moment, Atlas raised 10 from the girl's bet, sliding 55 credits into the hand pot, and another 30 into the sabacc pot.

[member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Thuumal Xevshe"]​

"I'll match that... " he said. "...and raise you ten."​

​

He'd managed to draw a zero. The zero. A card known to all as The Idiot. That and a +3 had him in a precarious position - one that, should the odds be defied, could win him not only his own hand's pot but the sabacc pot as well. *If the fates deigned*. The likelihood of that were slimmer than Atlas being crowned emperor, at least he thought. The cards down, he watched, waiting for everyone's next move.

 

[Chedi Iqari]

Chedi stumbled over to the sabacc table. He didn't want to play - just to watch. He didn't know the game well and at a 3000 credit buy in, learning on the fly at that table was probably not a great idea. He had lost track of time at the bar, and frankly lost track of how much he had been drinking. He was feeling "a little tipsy" as he mother would say. He hoped that Mr. Xevshe wouldn't be much longer and that the Trailblazer was safely stowed at the dock and not hauled off to the junker, like the port authority had threatened. He stood behind the pilot who had just joined the game and slyly tried to look over at his cards - "ooo - a zero. That didn't look good!" he thought (and maybe mumbled...he couldn't be sure). He hoped that his face didn't betray the bad hand the poor guy had been dealt. He never did have a good neutral face for these things.

[member="Atlas Viridian"]
[member="Thuumal Xevshe"]
[member="Setter Ryburn"]
[member="Mariya Pyne"]

 

[Mariya Pyne]

The Rodian met the raise, as did the Kel’Dor. Both drew one new card each. The Bothan folded, tossing his cards in. Mariya considered a moment, folding a few chips between her fingers and passed a gaze to the man standing behind both the Bothan and the other human that had just joined before tossing them into both the hand and sabacc pots.

“Very well.”

Mariya drew a card from the deck, folding back the top for a quick eye glance down before pressing it firmly against the table once more. With a six, a three, and a ten she was sitting with a positive nineteen. Not quite as safe as she preferred to play, but given the number of players, drawing another card could bomb her out quite easily.

The table action shifted back to [member="Atlas Viridian"]

[member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Thuumal Xevshe"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Kira Vaal"]

 

[Thuumal Xevshe]

Xevshe looked around the noisy cantina as he strolled toward the bar, smiling and nodding at several patrons as he walked by. At a nearby table sat a circle of young Corellian women, dressed to the nines and looking decidedly out of place at a bar in Corellia's warehouse district. As he sat, he scanned the room but he saw no sign of Chedi. He nodded at a nearby bartender. "Corellian ale."

The bartender filled a glass and placed it gently in front of Xevshe. He lifted the glass and looked at it for a moment, as if to rate the drink's color and composition. He took a big swig and suppressed a grimace. He missed the spirits back on Falleen. Whatever this swill was, he was already tired of it. He nodded in thanks to the bartender, then withdrew a few credits. He placed them gently on the bar and pushed away from the bar in a single, graceful motion. He must have looked not unlike a large graceful bird of prey, his deep purple robes flowing freely as he carefully circled the room looking for Chedi. Where did that kid get away to?

After a few moments he noticed two of the Corellian women slip away from the table, presumably to pick up the next round for the table. The two Corellians chattered as they looked over the list of available spirits. He moved closer with purpose, standing a slightly behind the pair at an unthreatening distance.

"You should try the Selonian Brandy," he said leaning in closer behind them, "It pairs nicely with most of the food available here." The women turned to face him slightly, their faces revealing their surprise and... something more. He had absolutely no idea if Selonians even made brandy. One of the girls smiled at him. He wagered it didn't matter anyway.

By most standards, the Falleen were an aesthetically pleasing species. Most Falleen would never leave their homeworld. The few that did were often, like Xevshe, members of noble houses. As such, most beings who encountered the falleen encountered the most polished, proper, and often impressive members of the species. It also helped that most of expatriate falleen, unlike Xevshe, had the sometimes immense wealth of their family house to back-up the etiquette of nobility they projected. That meant in most social circles, members of the falleen species could operate with a high degree of charisma and charm and had the ability to buy their way into whatever situation they might choose to partake in. And, when that failed, the reptilian humanoids could stack the deck with their pheromones.

Like clockwork, Xevshe was back at the girls' table only a moment later, sitting centrally flanked by the pair of girls and their friends. Pheromones filled the air immediately around Xevshe. He spun tales of fictional exploits as the first mate of the Trailblazer. They laughed, he smiled. His actions, while manipulative, were not impure...at least not this evening, anyway. He merely wished to be surrounded by beautiful women while he waited for his young associate to appear and accidentally stumble into a job, danger, or both.

Suddenly, through the crowd he spotted his young associate stumbling around a sabacc table. Chedi, this isn't a pleasure cruise, he thought to himself. Xevshe's voice, and attention trailed off. "Excuse me ladies, I believe my captain needs me." They pleaded for him to stay, one going so far as to write her comms channel on a scrap which she gave to Xevshe. He took it, completely ignoring her and the others. When he was a safe distance away, he tossed the scrap into a refuse receptacle. He moved swiftly toward Chedi and the others sitting around the sabacc table.


[member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Atlas Viridian"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Kira Vaal"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Put on edge at the knowledge of what lie beneath the cards in front of him, Atlas could feel the microscopic buildup of perspiration forming at the very edge of his hairline. He wasn't in for a mile and it was only his first hand but the thought of what might happen drew him in like a moth to flame. As the other players made their motions, Atlas observed, his left toe tapping against the floor quietly. He could feel the tension ramping as each player drew their cards and then stayed - when the dealer looked expectantly at him, he knew what he was going to do. Matching the woman's, he tossed in a couple chips.

"I'll take one."​

​

With bated breath, Atlas watched the dealer as his card came slipping across the table to him. A quick stop of his hand and a gently pry and Atlas spied the number. His toe abruptly ceased its gentle tapping. He was in now - too late to fold if he wanted to maintain face. Fighting his instinct to react. He'd drawn an Ace, a card value of +15 by itself. Coupled with his +3, it brought him to a rather disappointing +18. Given the number of cards left, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he could draw a 23, even with the idiot but to risk it this early on nothing more than a desire to win? No - Atlas knew better than to do that. A nod signalling the end of his turn, he took a deep breath and prepared for what came next.

Atlas kept an eye on the woman, she seemed to know her way around the cards even though Atlas could only guess as to what she might have. If he remembered the rules correctly, he didn't have to wait long to find out.

[member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Thuumal Xevshe"]​

 

[Chedi Iqari]

Chedi stepped away from the table - looks like he drew an Ace - at least he was in good standing now. No need to worry.

Chedi spotted Mr. Xevshe chatting up some of the "lady's of the night" that were sitting near the bar. He noted that they had given Xevshe a paper, which Chedi imagined was their going rate. However, as Xevshe walked away from the table, Chedi noted he threw the paper away "Poor guy," he thought, "Probably didn't have enough credits for them." He walked away from the card table and called out to his friend "Mr. Xevshe! Over here!"

@Mention Mariya Pyne
@Mention Setter Ryburn
@Mention Kira Vaal
@Mention Thuumal Xevshe
@Mention Atlas Viridian

 

[Thuumal Xevshe]

Xevshe advanced the distance between himself and Chedi, moving in close. He lowered his voice. "Chedi, are you...drunk?" He let out an exasperated sigh, but then reconsidered his position. Maybe I should be drunk too, it might make this place more interesting. He shrugged off the thought.

"Chedi, I smoothed out the misunderstanding with the Trailblazer. However, we're going to need to find work or move her soon. I suspect that once the port authority officer gets bored we're going to come up on the violation list again." He moved toward the bar and motioned for the young mirialan to follow.

[member="Chedi Iqari"] | [member="Atlas Viridian"] | [member="Mariya Pyne"] | [member="Setter Ryburn"] | [member="Kira Vaal"]