First Reply The Queen’s Gambit

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Open to Any one

The casino thrummed with glamor and subterfuge, a mesmerizing blend of hushed bets, tinkling glasses, and the barely audible exchange of credits. Canto Bight had long been a refuge for the audacious and the reckless, where fortunes could rise or plummet with the smallest flick of a wrist.

Lady Seraphine practically flourished in such an atmosphere.

She navigated the opulent corridors with elegance and grace. Her emerald gown flowed around her like liquid silk, glinting under the soft golden light. It wasn't her attire that turned heads; it was the way she moved. Her poise was infused with confidence, offering an almost magnetic presence that drew in admiration and scrutiny in equal measure. She relished both.

To a casual onlooker, she might have appeared to be another high-rolling aristocrat indulging in the night’s thrill. But beneath that dazzling exterior, her mind was a finely honed tool, a blade grating against stone, sharpening with each tick of the clock.

The artifact was nearby, hidden within this gilded den of vice. Securing it was her goal, and she intended to succeed before the night slipped away.

She stepped into the private lounge, a sanctuary reserved for the most formidable players. The air thick with unspoken wagers and veiled intentions. This was where the real games were played, not just of luck, but of power.

Then a stillness settled over the space.

A subtle quiet where the usual din should have roared.

Her eyes glanced across the room, and there were; a presence that did not belong. A figure too familiar, a gaze that cut through the smoke and indulgence like a blade poised at her throat.

There was a minuscule hiccup in the dealer’s movements, a beat too long, a flash of recognition suppressed too late. Every fiber of Seraphine’s being screamed danger, the unmistakable sense that she had just walked into something deeper than even she had planned for, and yet...

The game had begun.

And someone at that table was playing for far more than mere credits.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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The Queen’s Gambit​

​

Location: Casino​

Tag: Lady Kyoteru Seraphine​

Gear: Casual Attire​

​

Alana leaned back in her chair, one boot propped against the table's edge, the other planted firmly on the floor. The low golden light caught on the rim of her glass as she swirled the amber liquid inside, but her attention never wavered from the woman who had just stepped into the room.

The name carried weight, she thought, but Alana had never cared for titles. What mattered was the way the woman moved—like she owned the room, like she expected the universe itself to bend in her favor. That kind of confidence was either earned or faked so well it made no difference.

She set her drink down with deliberate ease, letting the sound of glass against the table fill the weighted silence. "Well," She drawled, tilting her head just slightly. "Didn't expect to see you here."

A lie. She had expected this. Had known, deep down, that Seraphine wouldn't resist the pull of something valuable slipping just out of reach.

Alana's fingers drummed against the table's surface as she took in the scene—the too-still dealer, the undercurrent of tension that had sunk its claws into the room the moment Seraphine arrived. The game had been running smooth before this. Now? Now it felt like the air before a storm.

She exhaled slowly, as if unimpressed, though she was anything but. "You looking to play? Or is this one of those nights where you just take what you want and leave the rest of us in your wake?"

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Alana Calloway
A soft smile curved upon her plush, velvety lips as she inclined her head in greeting to the Echani woman, who stood nearly a full foot shorter than she.

"Forgive me darling; I don't believe we've met." The lie slipped from her tongue in a honeyed tone.

Her emerald gaze washed over the pale, muted hues of the woman before her, stirring something distant. A memory long buried. A pang of familiarity clawed its way to the surface, sharp and unexpected, pressing against the walls of her mind. For but a moment, it threatened to take hold. But the entity within her was merciless. It suffocated the sentiment before it could root itself, smothering the flicker of emotion into nothingness.

She knew precisely the kind of danger that stood beside her. The entity within her had to be careful—preciously so. Vessels such as this one were not easy to come by, and the close proximity of a skilled bounty hunter and assassin, known in the deepest circles of the criminal underworld, set its instincts alight with caution.

With slow deliberation, she set her glass down. Her manicured nails drummed lightly atop the fabric, a rhythm of consideration, or even calculation. Then, with fluid grace, she lifted her hand, brushing back a stray raven-black lock from her face, middle and index fingers trailing briefly against her temple.

"I do believe I shall enjoy a few games of play." The words purred from her lips, silk and shadow, her exterior composed, poised. But beneath that perfect veneer, the parasite coiled, restless.

Ace didn't need to look to know. He heard it even felt it.
The dealer adjusted the deck, letting the cards settle neatly in their hands. Their gaze sweeping over the table, lingering just long enough to acknowledge each player.

A slow, deliberate rhythm. Manicured nails tapping against the soft cloth of the table, just once, twice, then a pause. Another sequence followed, subtly varied but measured. To anyone else, it was idle fidgeting, the absent-minded gesture of a woman lost in thought. But to Ace, it was a command made from a silent, coded pulse in the air, meant only for him.

His breath remained steady, his posture unassuming, but his focus sharpened.

She was uneasy. Not outwardly, of course. Lady Seraphine was as smooth as ever, every inch the poised presence that kept people spellbound. But beneath that perfect exterior, the parasite stirred, and when it stirred, Ace paid attention.

The signal had meant escalation of priority.

The first taps were a warning to remain alert. The second, more deliberate, meant a potential problem had been identified. Ace didn't need to guess who. His gaze shifted, just for a fraction of a second, tracking the white-haired bounty hunter seated near his charge. Alana Calloway .

The name carried weight. She was a ghost in the bounty circuit, part legend, part cautionary tale. One of those people you learned to recognize if you planned on surviving long in the business. Ace had crossed paths with worse, but the fact that Seraphine deemed her worth marking? That was enough to put him on edge.

He exhaled slowly, shifting just enough to adjust his vantage point. His movement was almost imperceptible; just a casual lean, a repositioning of weight that allowed an opening of his full peripheral range. His left hand ghosted near the seam of his coat, where a blade and a compact slugthrower rested. No action yet. Not unless the next signal came.

The dealer adjusted the deck, letting the cards settle neatly in their hands. Their gaze swept over the table, lingering just long enough to acknowledge each player.

"Ladies and gentlemen," they said evenly, "before we begin, let's set the stakes."

A small nod toward the betting markers, the glint of credits already placed by some of the other players. Custom dictated that new players offer their wager before being dealt in.

Before Seraphine or Alana could answer, the dealer gestured toward the pile of wagers already in play showing off a collection of wealth and risk that spoke louder than credits ever could.

Among them :

• A Signet Ring – A heavy, gold-inlaid band bearing the insignia of the Crymorah Syndicate, a Mid Rim crime organization known for its influence over smuggling routes and high-end black-market trades. The once-crisp engraving of its sigil—a stylized krayt dragon wrapped around a credit chit—had softened with time. In the right hands, it meant protection and a seat at the table among Crymorah enforcers. In the wrong hands, it was a liability, proof of a debt unpaid or a betrayal unforgotten.
• A Forged Identity Chip – A sleek, metallic datacard, blank on the surface but embedded with a fabricated alias, false credentials, and access to a modest fund of untraceable credits. Its registry was tied to Bonadan, a world infamous for corporate corruption and shadow deals. Whoever wagered it had no use for it anymore—or perhaps, they'd been forced to part with their escape plan.
• A Blaster with Engraved Initials – A DL-44 heavy blaster, its darkened durasteel frame bearing heat scoring and impact dents from years of use. Along the barrel, the initials "J.R." were etched in careful, deliberate strokes. The owner—a grizzled gambler from Nar Shaddaa—swore it once belonged to Jorrus Rane, a Corellian bounty hunter who disappeared after a job against the Pyke Syndicate went south. Whether it was a relic or a fabrication, the blaster still fired, and for some, owning a legend was worth more than the truth.
• A Sealed Holodisk – A small, unmarked data-storage unit, its activation port secured by an outdated SoroSuub encryption lock. The player who placed it in the pot shrugged off questions, claiming they had no idea what was on it—only that someone on Ord Mantell was willing to pay a fortune to retrieve it. It could be anything—a lost transaction log, a bounty list, or something far worse. Curiosity alone made it dangerous.
• A House Deed – A transparisteel-encased document, its parchment aged but remarkably well-preserved. It detailed ownership of a decaying estate on Dathomir, a world steeped in mystery and old power. The gambler who placed it in the pot had no interest in ruined homes or haunted worlds and had taken it as collateral in a bet long ago. The only thing keeping it from being worthless was the rumor that something valuable—something old—was buried beneath its floors.

Seraphine's gaze barely shifted, but there the deed was the prize she had come for.

The dealer's attention returned to her first, then to Alana.

"Shall I deal you in?"

Their voice was smooth and patient. The kind that had seen a thousand games and knew better than to rush. Their fingers rested lightly on the deck, waiting.

The dealer's gaze rested on Seraphine,

"And what will you be wagering, my lady?"

She let the question linger, the weight of the table's attention pressing in like a slow tide. Then, with an easy motion, she reached into the small clasp of her gown, drawing out a single, matte-black coin.

It was simple in design, but the emblem etched into its surface was unmistakable—the sigil of Black Sun.

A few of the more seasoned players went still. One exhaled sharply, another shifted as if reconsidering whether they wanted to be in this game at all. The marker was a tether to something bigger, something dangerous.

She set it down gently, letting the light catch the engraving for just a moment before she slid it toward the center of the table.

"I believe this should suffice."

Her tone was effortless, but the air in the room had changed.

The dealer regarded the token with a measured look, then nodded.

"The Black Sun honors its debts. As long as one lives to collect."

A quiet ripple of amusement—or was it tension?—passed through the table.

The dealer tapped the deck once, sealing the bet into play.

"Very well. Let's deal you in."

He then looked to Alana Calloway .

 

[Alana Calloway]

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The Queen’s Gambit​

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Location: Casino​

Tag: Lady Kyoteru Seraphine​

Gear: Casual Attire​

​

Alana's gaze flicked lazily over the bets, cataloging each one with practiced ease. She had seen wagers like these before—fortunes gambled away on the whims of those who thought they could cheat fate. Some of these people would leave with more than they came in with. Others wouldn't leave at all.

Her attention lingered on the deed for half a second longer than necessary before shifting to the coin Seraphine had placed down. Black Sun. That was a name that carried weight in all the wrong places. The kind of weight that crushed those too foolish to understand it.

And yet, Alana didn't flinch. She only leaned forward, resting her arms on the table as she considered her next move.

Slowly, she reached inside her coat and withdrew a small, unremarkable holodisk. Unlike the sealed one in the pile, this one was old, the edges scuffed from years of handling.

She let it spin once between her fingers before setting it on the table with a quiet clink.

"Black Sun's got its charms," She mused, voice lazy, detached. "But I'm wagering something rarer."

Her fingers tapped against the holodisk's surface once.

"The last known coordinates of a ghost ship that's been drifting in the Unknown Regions for the past twenty years. No name, no record—just a distress signal that cut out the second someone got close."

She leaned back, watching the reactions ripple around the table. A few players stole glances at each other, some interested, others skeptical.

Alana smiled faintly, tilting her head. Her eye twitched as spoke, trying not to let her pain of the situation break through the gamble she was making. "Some say it's a lost research vessel. Others say it's a Republic black site that never made it back from the war. Me? It’s a secret place, belonging to some rather…interesting artifacts from the past. I’d like to think this would suffice?"

She gestured toward the dealer, giving them an easy, knowing nod. She really hoped this would work out.

"Deal me in?"

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Alana Calloway

The dealer dealt both ladies in and shuffled, the cards falling into place as the game began.

First Round

• Seraphine: Commander of Sabers (12), 9 of Coins → Total: 21
• Alana: Master of Flasks (14), -8 Endurance → Total: 6
• Nar Shaddaa Gambler: Ace of Staves (15), -2 Queen of Air and Darkness → Total: 13
• Crymorah Enforcer: 10 of Coins, 7 of Sabers → Total: 17
• Dathomir Deed Holder: Mistress of Sabers (13), -13 Demise → Total: 0 (At Risk of Bombing Out)

Seraphine let her gaze flick lazily over the table, eyes lingering on Alana for a fraction longer than necessary before shifting to the other players. A small, knowing smile curled at the edges of her lips as she tilted her head.

"Well, gentlemen," she mused, tapping a manicured finger against her cards, "I do hope none of you wagered more than you can afford to lose."

She turned to Alana then, amusement dancing in her emerald gaze. "And you, darling? Feeling lucky, or just here to make sure I don't run away with all the fun?"

 

[Alana Calloway]

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The Queen’s Gambit​

​

Location: Casino​

Tag: Lady Kyoteru Seraphine​

Gear: Casual Attire​

​

Alana leaned back in her chair, her hand still gripping her cards but her expression unreadable. The flickering glow of the dim lights cast sharp shadows across her face, making her eyes appear even colder than usual. She let Seraphine's words hang in the air for a moment before responding, her voice flat and disinterested.

"Not feeling lucky," she replied, her gaze flicking briefly over the other players. "Just here to pass the time, and chat up some pretty faces."

She studied her hand for a second longer, before she spoke.

"I’m feeling something though, so call it what you wanna."

Her decision was as much a reflex as it was calculated. She stared at the cards handed to her with a sinking feeling in her gut

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Alana Calloway

Second Round (Trading & Drawing)

• Seraphine: Draws 2 of Staves, swaps out 9 of Coins → Total: 14
• Alana: Draws 5 of Flasks, keeps it → Total: 11
• Nar Shaddaa Gambler: Draws 8 of Staves, swaps out -2 Queen of Air and Darkness → Total: 21
• Crymorah Enforcer: Draws 3 of Coins, swaps out 10 of Coins → Total: 10
• Dathomir Deed Holder: Draws Balance (-11), bombs out → Eliminated

Each player began weighing their next move. The dealer's hands moved with practiced ease, sliding fresh cards into play as the gamblers made their choices.

Seraphine tapped a manicured finger against the table before delicately lifting a new card from the deck. The 2 of Staves replaced her 9 of Coins, shifting her total down to 14—not ideal, but workable. She exhaled softly, rolling her shoulders as if brushing off the weight of uncertainty.

Her gaze flicked lazily toward Alana, catching the way the woman leaned back, her grip still firm on her cards. The lights carved shadows across her face, making her unreadable.

Seraphine smirked. "Passing time with pretty faces, hmm?" she mused, turning the card between her fingers. "Well, at least you have excellent taste."

The grizzled gambler muttered under his breath, tapping his cards against his palm as he eyed the deck. His hand was already strong, but luck could be fickle. He took the risk, pulling an 8 of Staves and tossing out his -2 Queen of Air and Darkness. His total shot up to 21—a damn good hand.

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "About time," he grunted, sliding his cards back into place. "Haven't seen a hand this good since I cleaned out that Twi'lek on Nar Shaddaa."

The enforcer was more cautious. He reached for a card with slow deliberation, drawing a 3 of Coins and swapping out his 10 of Coins. His total dropped to 10, but his face remained impassive.

He glanced at the others, his gaze lingering on the gambler's reaction. "Lucky bastard," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

The deed holder was sweating, fingers twitching as he pulled a card. His breath hitched as he turned it over—Balance (-11).

Silence. Then, realization hit.

His face fell, going stark white as he processed the loss. He had bombed out.

"Kriff," he hissed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. He sat there for a long moment before pushing his cards toward the dealer with a heavy sigh.

"Should've never bet that damn deed," he muttered, shoving back from the table. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor, and without another word, stalked off into the casino's shadows.

The dealer barely glanced up, only giving a small nod before sweeping his cards from the table.

"Player eliminated."


Seraphine leaned back, watching the man leave with idle amusement. She tapped her cards against the felt once, then let her eyes sweep back to Alana.

"Well," she said, voice light, teasing, "at least we're still in the game. For now."

 

[Alana Calloway]

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The Queen’s Gambit​

​

Location: Casino​

Tag: Lady Kyoteru Seraphine​

Gear: Casual Attire​

​

Alana's lips curved into a faint, unreadable smile, her eyes still focused on her cards. The banter, the stakes—it was all part of the game, and she wasn't about to let any of it faze her. The steady pulse of the game matched the rhythm of her heartbeat, and though her hand wasn't the strongest, she could sense the tension in the air—the delicate balance of risk and reward.

Her fingers traced the edge of her cards as she tilted her head toward Seraphine, acknowledging her remark without the slightest shift in her demeanor. The lights above cast soft glows on her pale skin, and her red eyes glimmered as though there was more beneath the surface of this simple game of chance.

"Pretty faces, huh?" she echoed, her voice a touch cooler now. "Guess we'll see who's got the best luck when the cards fall."

She glanced at the cards in her hand—a 5 of Flasks. Her total sat at 11, which, while not a terrible position, left her room for improvement. She didn't need perfect hands to win—she had more than enough skill to outplay anyone if she could read the situation right.

Seraphine's smirk hadn't gone unnoticed. It was clear the other woman liked to play games outside the table as well. But Alana had no intention of letting herself be a part of it. She wasn't here for flirtation or idle talk. Every word exchanged, every gesture, could be a part of the strategy. The dealer's hand moved smoothly, and the weight of the game intensified in the air.

"You're still in the game, Seraphine," Alana said with an almost casual air, her voice low as she leaned forward slightly. "But we both know that's not where the real game is, right?" Her eyes briefly flicked toward the gambler. Then, with a quiet sigh, she turned her gaze back to Seraphine.

"Luck's just a piece of it. There's always more to the story."

Alana's smile stayed in place, colder now, more guarded. This was a game of control, and she was still figuring out exactly who she needed to outmaneuver.

The enforcer's retreat had given her a moment's peace. Now it was just her, Seraphine, and the gambler with his 21—a good hand, but one that could be undone in an instant.

"Your move," Alana said softly, a hint of challenge in her tone, her eyes sharpening with the same quiet intensity as ever. "Let's see who really gets to keep playing."

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Alana Calloway
Final Round (Sabacc Shift Triggered)

A Sabacc Shift scrambled all unfrozen cards.

• Seraphine: Kept Commander of Sabers (12), Shift turned 2 of Staves into 11 of Coins → Total: 23 (Pure Sabacc!)
• Alana: Kept Master of Flasks (14), Shift turned 5 of Flasks into -14 Moderation → Total: 0 (Bombed Out)
• Nar Shaddaa Gambler: Kept Ace of Staves (15), Shift turned 8 of Staves into -15 The Evil One → Total: 0 (Bombed Out)
• Crymorah Enforcer: Kept 3 of Coins, Shift turned 7 of Sabers into 9 of Flasks → Total: 12

Results

• Winner: Seraphine (23, Pure Sabacc – Wins the Sabacc Pot & Hand Pot!)
• Crymorah Enforcer (12, closest remaining but still lost)
• Alana & Nar Shaddaa Gambler (Bombed out due to Shift, eliminated)
• Dathomir Deed Holder (Bombed out first, eliminated)

The dealer's hands hovered over the dice. The game had reached a crucial moment, every player watching, waiting. Then, the dice hit the table.
A pause followed that stretched just long enough to sharpen the tension. Doubles.

A Sabacc Shift.

For a split second, the cards in every player's hand changed. The randomizer pulsed, its unseen influence sweeping across the table, scrambling the fates of all who had yet to lock their hands.

Seraphine's cards remained still—except for one.

Her Commander of Sabers (12) held steady, untouched by the shift, but her 2 of Staves dissolved in a soft shimmer of energy—only to reform as an 11 of Coins. Her total clicked into place: 23. Pure Sabacc.

Seraphine exhaled softly, eyes lowering to her cards. A slow smile curled at the edges of her lips, her fingers resting lightly against the table. The perfect hand.

Across from her, the game had not been so kind.
Alana's cards flickered as the 5 of Flasks in her grasp shifted, its image distorting before solidifying into -14 Moderation.
Total: 0. Bombed out.

The Nar Shaddaa Gambler was next.
His Ace of Staves (15) remained, but the 8 of Staves in his hand twisted into something much darker.
The Evil One (-15).
A perfect storm of bad luck. His total plummeted to 0. Bombed out.

He didn't speak at first. Just stared at his hand for a beat too long, his jaw tight, before scoffing under his breath.

"Figures," he muttered, tossing his cards onto the table with a flick of his wrist. "Damn Shift."

The Crymorah Enforcer wasn't spared the chaos either—but he survived.
His 3 of Coins stayed locked, but the 7 of Sabers warped, reshuffling itself into a 9 of Flasks.
His total landed at 12. Not great, not terrible. But it wasn't 23.

His eyes flicked toward Seraphine, realization settling in.
The Shift had sealed the game.
The dealer made the call.

"Pure Sabacc. The game is won."


A stillness filled the room, different from before. Some of the players sat frozen, absorbing their fates. Some sighed, some cursed under their breath.

Seraphine, ever poised, gathered her cards, setting them neatly down before looking around the table. She hadn't just won. She had taken everything.

As Seraphine gathered her winnings, her fingers gliding over the scattered credits and prized wagers, she let out a soft, knowing hum—just enough to fill the lingering silence left in the wake of the game's end.


She flicked a glance at Alana, amusement playing at the edges of her lips, green eyes dancing with mischief.


"Looks like the cards had a preference tonight," she mused, letting a single credit spin briefly between her fingers before tucking it away. "But don't take it too hard, darling. Luck has a way of… shifting when you least expect it."


Her gaze lingered for just a beat longer, the implication hanging weightlessly between them, before she gave a slow, effortless shrug.

"Besides," she added, voice lilting with something dangerously close to teasing, "the real fun starts after the game, doesn't it?"

She was no fool, she was getting ready to scoop up all those winnings and run off with them.

 

[Alana Calloway]

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The Queen’s Gambit​

​

Location: Casino​

Tag: Lady Kyoteru Seraphine​

Gear: Casual Attire​

​

Alana didn't move.

The table had gone quiet, save for the sound of Seraphine gathering her winnings—credits clinking softly, the rustle of chips, the smug little hum that laced every motion. But Alana just sat there, hands resting loosely near her cards, shoulders heavy under the weight of a moment she couldn't quite shake.

The final shift had hit like a gut-punch. She'd felt it the second the dice landed—doubles—and she knew, deep down, the whole hand had turned against her before she even saw the damn cards change.

Still, seeing Moderation blink into her spread like a slap from the past had twisted something deeper than frustration. That card always followed her—always. Every gambler had a story, a superstition, a ghost in the deck.

For Alana, it was that card.

She stared at it now, lying crooked across the table like it was mocking her.

Zero. Nothing. Bombed out like some back-alley rookie on her first table run. And Seraphine—of course it had been Seraphine—pulled a perfect twenty-three without so much as a flicker of effort.

Her jaw worked slightly, lips pressing together, but no sound came. No protest, no curse. What was there to say? The game was done. The pot gone. The shift did what it always did—cut the legs out from under anyone who dared pretend luck was something they could hold onto.

Her fingers brushed the edge of her hat brim, tugging it lower to shade her eyes. She didn't want to see the glances. Not from the gambler, not from the enforcer, and especially not from Seraphine.

That woman's voice still echoed faintly in her ears.
"The real fun starts after the game, doesn't it?"

Alana swallowed that down like bad liquor, letting the silence wrap around her instead. She didn't rise. Just sat there, motionless, while the room shifted around her—people getting up, laughter swelling, boots echoing on durasteel flooring.

“Yea, guess that’s one way of saying it.”

The chair felt heavier than it should've. Like getting up would take more energy than she had.

She wasn't mad. Not really.

But the loss scraped something raw beneath her skin, and it lingered—sharp, ugly, personal.

She dragged a gloved finger across the table's edge, slow and absent, lost in thought.

She hated losing. Hated losing like this even more.

And yet, part of her knew this wasn't about the game anymore. Not really. It was everything else pressing in from the edges—the weight of the past, the fog in her head, the blood still drying under her armor seams from the last job, the names she couldn't forget, and the faces she couldn't afford to remember.

The cards were just the last nudge to send her slipping into that quiet spiral again.

Still, she didn't move.

She just sat there in the afterglow of loss, hat low, jaw tight, eyes dull behind the shadow.

And somewhere beneath all that stillness, the tension coiled.

 

[Lady Kyoteru Seraphine]

Alana Calloway
Seraphine swept up her winnings tucking the deed away last. Rising, she cast a fleeting, knowing smile at Alana, no taunt, nor words, just a coy understanding. Then, without hesitation, she slipped into the casino's depths to maybe grab a drink before departing.