Lucine studied the violent blue drink in front of her before taking a cautious sip. As the sickly sweet taste washed over her tongue, she shuddered. “I see that the beverages here have not improved,” she muttered as she pushed the drink away.
She turned and leaned against the bar as she surveyed the gambling den. It seemed to be a busy night, as all of the tables were nearly filled to capacity with stern-faced gamblers who glared down at their cards. The particularly interesting games drew small crowds of onlookers. Over the upbeat music of the band, cries of delight and groans of disappointment could be heard, announcing a big win or a stunning loss.
The club was illuminated with blue light, and the smoky haze of a variety of intoxicants hung in the air. Yet even despite this, Lucine could see that her date had not yet arrived.
The redhead suppressed a sigh of annoyance as she checked her chrono and pointedly ignored the glances from those sitting around the bar. Dressed in her fashionable black formal wear, Lucine was considerably more overdressed than most of the people present. Ordinarily, she did not mind standing out in a crowd, but she was painfully aware of the fact that more were likely looking at her out of avarice than attraction. She did not relish the idea of getting robbed.
At last, she caught sight of a familiar Chiss weaving his way between the sabacc tables, making his way toward her. Though Lucine was gratified to see that he had bothered to wear something other than the boring military uniform that he so adored, she was slightly bothered by the look of annoyance on his face. She was even more put out by the sight of the LE-series repair droid that followed in his wake.
“Good evening, Rhylance,” she said when he drew near enough to hear her over the music and constant susurrus of the assembled gamblers. “I must confess that when you invited me out on a date, it never crossed my mind that you would think this place would be a good venue. Please tell me that this is your idea of a joke.”
“It was a joke, but not mine,” Rhylance replied, his clipped words making his annoyance even more obvious. He cast a glance over his shoulder at the chrome-plated droid that followed behind him. “M.O.R.S.E.? What do you have to say to the Shadow Lady?”
Lucine raised an eyebrow as the droid drew to a halt. “I apologize for changing the Master’s reservations from Club Vermillion to Club Vertica,” M.O.R.S.E. said in an emotionless, androgynous voice. Rhylance gave a nod of grudging satisfaction, but before he could say anything, the droid continued speaking, “However, given the ‘lady’s’ overall level of intellectual and cultural sophistication, I extrapolated that she would feel more comfortable with the change of venue. Furthermore, given the fact that in your initial meeting here— “
“Yes, that is quite enough, M.O.R.S.E.,” Rhylance said suddenly, cutting the droid off. “Return to the ship. I will have words with you later.”
“Yes, Master,” M.O.R.S.E. replied. He offered a small bow to the Chiss and turned to leave without so much as a word in Lucine’s direction.
“Please, allow me to sort him out, darling,” Lucine said at last as she glared after the shiny droid. “I would only require a fire axe, a magnet and about fifteen minutes.”
Rhylance sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Despite the occasional immature prank, M.O.R.S.E. is too valuable an assistant to lose.”
Lucine gave a small moue of distaste but did not reply. An awkward silence fell between them as they both remembered the last time they were in Club Vertica. It had been their first meeting and had quickly descended into violence that ended with Rhylance surgically implanting a control chip in her brain. Though he had later removed it, and they had agreed it was water under the bridge, they still had periodic disagreements as to whether the control chip had been an overreaction on his part.
“Well, I am simply determined not to let that insufferable droid spoil our good time,” Lucine said at last, breaking the silence. She wrapped her arms around him, partly to emphasize his words and partly to draw his attention back to her. “We shall simply have to find a way to secure reservations to a more upscale establishment.”
The smallest trace of a smile flickered across the Chiss’s lips, before he pointed out, “Most such places are completely booked three months in advance.”
“And with our combined talents, I doubt we will have any trouble convincing someone to relinquish their reservation to us,” Lucine said, offering him a mischievous wink.
“Well, I do have a new paralytic poison I would like to try.”
“You could do that, darling. Or I could simply convince someone to give up their reservations. Just once, I would like one of our dates to not end in homicide.”
Rhylance stared at her blankly. “Why?”
“Because I do not want to get blood on my dress,” Lucine replied with a shrug.
“Even still, you should not rely on the Force for everything. My method would be simple, effective and the most likely to succeed.”
Lucine paused, glancing at the sabacc tables that surrounded them. “Well. It seems we are at an impasse. Might I suggest a small competition? We will each play sabacc using our individual methods. The person who wins the most in an hour will choose the restaurant and determine the method of securing the reservations. Deal?”
“Deal,” Rhylance replied. “I think you will really enjoy the place I have in mind.”
“Well, darling. We shall see what happens in an hour.”
Lucine studied the large pile of chips in front of her with satisfaction before examining the other players at the table. By contrast, their fortunes seemed to be at a low ebb, and the stacks of chips in front of them had shrunk considerably since she had sat down. Judging by the sullen glares some of them were giving her, they had noticed her good fortune. But, the hour was almost up.
As the cardshark droid dealt the next hand, Lucine touched the Force with her mind and focused upon three of the other players. She carefully wove an illusion that the cards they were looking at were terrible hands. She suppressed a smile as the first two players folded immediately after the deal.
The game continued, with Lucine liberally using illusions and mind tricks. It ended when Lucine dragged both the main pot and the sabacc pot toward herself. “Well, I think that will do it,” she purred. “I think I am going to call it a night, but this really has been fun.”
As the cardshark droid exchanged her chips for higher denomination ones, a heavy hand closed on her shoulder. She looked up to see a massive Besalisk looming behind her. He wore a bowtie that was too small for him, and an ill-fitting electric-blue suitcoat that marked him as security. “Management wants to have a word,” he said in what was intended to be a threatening voice. However, the effect was slightly diminished by the way he stumbled over the word ‘management’. Clearly the massive creature was unaccustomed to using multisyllabic words.
“Of course, darling,” Lucine replied, though she could see the smirks from the other players at the table. Of course, the proprietors of Club Vertica did not keep the gambling tables open as a charity, there was money to be earned here. Cheaters were discouraged, and those that were caught were forcibly convinced to return their winnings to the house. In retrospect, she should have been a bit more cautious, but it was far too late for that now.
She collected her chips and rose from her seat. Under the guard’s watchful gaze, she began to walk at a sedate pace toward the back of the room, where the offices of the management were located. She caught sight of Rhylance sitting a few tables away and gave him a meaningful glance.
A strong sense of perception, an eidetic memory and a keen understanding of statistics and mathematics had always served Rhylance well. It seemed it was particularly useful in playing sabacc. Under his watchful eyes, even the most minute tells were obvious. And counting cards was practically child’s play, despite the fact that the casino used multiple decks. Still, the Chiss medic knew better than to be too obvious. He prided himself on his patience and was careful to lose just enough to allay any suspicions of cheating.
So when he caught a flash of red out of the corner of his eye and looked to see Lucine being escorted away in the company of security, he knew that his companion had not been as cautious. He sighed and pushed his neatly stacked collection of chips to the center of the table to be exchanged.
“Going somewhere, friend?” a saccharine voice asked as Rhylance rose from the table with his winnings in hand. A smirking Weequay separated from the crowd of observers, followed closely by a hulking Epicanthix.
“Yes,” the medic replied curtly, turning away without another word. He had only made it a few steps in Lucine’s direction when he realized that a large Gand was blocking his path.
“Not so fast, not so fast,” the Weequay purred. “See, my friends and I couldn’t help but to notice how fancy-looking you and your companion are. We think we would be really enriched by your company.”
Rhylance looked first at the Weequay, then at the toughs who were moving to surround him, and finally to Lucine’s retreating form. He took a deep breath, forcing down his rising annoyance. “I have no time for your insipid little ransom plot,” he snapped as he flexed his wrist, allowing a slender scalpel to slide into his hand. “Stand aside.”
The Weequay chuckled. “It’s cute that you think you’ve got a choice.” Neither he nor his companions seemed to have noticed the motion, or the glittering steel.
“You are not the brightest bulb in the box, are you darling?” Lucine asked the Besalisk that followed closely behind her.
A short silence followed her words as the Besalisk looked momentarily confused. “I’m not Bulb. I’m Gorf,” he said, tapping the small nameplate on the lapel of his suit coat.
“That is what I thought,” Lucine said with a sweet smile. She suddenly adopted a look of surprise as she pointed to something just behind Gorf. “Look! A distraction!” she gasped.
“Where?!” Gorf demanded, turning to look.
Hastily, Lucine drew upon the Force and dropped low, sweeping the Besalisk’s feet out from under him. He fell with a heavy thud. The redhead followed up with an elbow between his eyes. “Sorry, darling. No time for finesse!”
She got to her feet and started back the way she came, moving as quickly as her high heels would allow. She heard shouts from behind her as more security guards emerged from the offices, and cursed inwardly. It appeared that things were about to get interesting. Hopefully, Rhylance was ready to go.
