Bentre stared hard at his cards, before releasing a slow sigh. Several other patrons, a Rodian, a pair of Bith and a smirking Sephi watched the man shuffle his cards again, before placing the scarred Corellian placed his hand on the table with cards face down. "This game is getting a little too heated for my taste." Without a look at the others, Stahoes pushed himself by pushing down against the table.
He had been on a bad losing streak and the day was already growing too long for his patience. The last thing he needed was to explain to his wife how he had lost even more credits playing Sabaac this evening. Tasha'Vel was already vocal about how tired she had grown of his wandering around the galaxy.
The thought of facing the Twi'lek's wrath over the lost assets caused Bentre's blood pressure to rise. He felt the slow pounding in his temples that foretold a nasty headache. That might have had something to do with the lousy music or the blue lighting everywhere though. The thought of nabbing a drink passed fleetingly through the Corellian's mind. It wouldn't fix the fact that he would have to catch it later for his losses, but it would make things bearable, however briefly.
As the Sith strode up to the bar, he passed an eye across the row of patrons, considering where to sit down. None of those seated appeared as though they cared to be bothered. Few in this place seemed to, at that. However, Bentre's eye widened as they fell upon the tall figure of a being near the end of the bar. Dark hair and blue skin marked the being as a Chiss. There were empty seats on either side of the man, a clear indication he wanted to be left alone. The Sith made a bee line for one of the stools. He doubted he would make any friends this evening, but in that moment any delay would be nicer than the inevitable lecture he faced at home upon his return.
"Hey buddy," Bentre affected the most cheerful tone he could muster. "I just saw you sitting here at the bar, and thought you looked a little lonely. Nobody should have to drink alone. It's a wonderful evening." His words got little more than a glance of irritation from the Chiss. This did not dissuade Stahoes in the least. "You know, you remind me of somebody. I can't really place it where. Unless you ever-"
"Go away." The Chiss's words were almost flat in tone.
"Oh, don't be that way." Stahoes put fake disappointment into his tone as he looked the man over. This could prove a mildly entertaining end to the evening, he figured. The blaster seated in a holster at the Loyalist's side caught the Shadow's eye. "Oh hey, I like the blaster." Grinning like a fool, Bentre stretched out his fingers to take hold of the grip. "At a glance looks like you mi-" The words froze in his mouth as the Chiss, who had merely appeared to twitch in discomfort before, turned and slammed something metal into the Corellian's hand.
Was that- wait- a scalpel?
The Sadowan drew his hand back with a shout of pain. "Hey, I was just wanting to take a peek." Bentre hissed as he pulled the tool out of his hand and threw it onto the bar. Both men were on their feet now. Shaking his hand, the Sith unclipped the lightsaber from his side and activated it with a snap-hiss. Rhylance had his blaster drawn in response.
"I told you to go away." The Chiss repeated, his tone still even as when he first spoke to the human.
"Yeah well," Stahoes paused, shaking his punctured right hand in the air a bit, "that was fine up until you decided to stab me. Now, I am going to have to take a bit of recompense for my pain."
