The Citadel Cantina is located on the second level of the Arcona Citadel. The bar itself is small on the surface, but possess an expansive selection thanks to a clever servos-operated storage system built into the underside of the bar. A bartender only need punch in what drink they require (other than the typical stock) and within a minute the bottle is distributed transparisteel display panels. Relaxed, soothing music plays over the speakers, and a big-screen display terminal with access to the holonet sits across from a series of comfortable lounge chairs and stools.

The Cantina is full-service and is manned by a gruff, one-eyed Rodian named Mick. Mick is a grumpy, former sergeant who served in the Arcona Armed Forces years and years ago. He goes about his business with a series of grunts, gestures, and monosyllabic dialogue. Though a man of few words, he's a genius of alcoholic beverages and mixology. Mick has a very strict rule about no fighting or brawling within the Cantina. The mess hall, on the other hand, is a different story.

The Cantina opens up into a dedicated mess-hall that can hold up to a hundred sentients before it starts to feel claustrophobic. Open at all hours, the mess-hall has been sanctioned as an acceptable area for members to settle aggressions and other frustrations. The tables are all firmly bolted into the halls floor to avoid being thrown over, and are crafted out of durable material that has held it’s own throughout the years. At the far end of the mess-hall there is a pair of double-doors that lead to the kitchen and storage area. The mess-hall is maintained by a full staff of droids, and occasionally a new recruit who has earned the ire of the Rollmaster.

The hub of social activity, excessive alcohol drinking and trance music was abruptly quiet for the time being. As the Clan settled from the war, it would be a common sight to see summit leaders and the like sitting in the Cantina. The lights were dimmed because of the time of night, and many people were silent in their own business. Most of the occupants that seated this business were in the mess hall, chomping food and fixing their own bandages as if uncomfortable in their own skin. Neatly arranged at the back of the cantina, was a series of lounge chairs pushed to look like a closed horseshoe with a singular table in the centre. This point of interest was decorated with sabacc cards, a few packets of cigarettes and two transparisteel whiskey bottles. Together, a Ryn and a Zelosian both hunched over the table as they studied the cards intently. Their eyes sharpened to detect how their hand could win the game, while throwing back their double whiskey glasses. Suddenly, the Ryn named Kordath slammed down his pair of fours which made him stand on a clean twenty score. The Zelosian, Sjl, grunted and chucked his cards in disgust.

“Gah! Again with the winning! The Force is frakking with you this time, rat!”

“Nah, it’s all talent and skill really!” Kord shrugged, then took a small drag from a sitting cigarette and coughed into his fist.

“You know, you really shouldn’t smoke those. Bad for your blood.” Sjl pressed the morality of his brother in arms.

“Nah it’s fine, helps with the whiskey. Relaxes the throat.” Kord nodded reassuringly, then launched another whiskey shot back.

Then from the edges of the horse-shoe, Mick the bartender placed his glass of rum next to Kordath’s and tapped the table with his credits.

“I’m game for the winner, best of three?” He huskily stated.

The two Krath looked at each other and chuckled, today was a good day for profiteering.

Kordath grinned and shuffled the cards in his deft hands, flipping and cutting the deck but never bending them. As Sabaac cards went they were pretty plain, a stock deck that was plainly adorned with a dark backing. The Ryn glanced at Mick, whose single eye was tracking the Krath’s movements unerringly. Still grinning as he began to deal out, laying two cards in front of Galleros and himself, and then the Rodian.

“Wait, what?” The Zelosian looked bewildered.

“You said you wanted to learn this game, Sjl. No reason not to let Mick have a sporting chance at taking your credits as well, now is there? Sabaac isn’t a two player game, mate. Now if we had a proper table,” Bleu replied, glancing meaningfully at Mick, “with a dealer droid and all the works this would be a lot more interesting. A randomizer and an interference field make this a completely different game.”

“Consul’s orders, Bleu,” growled the Rodian, “You know he don’t want you lot gambling.”

Kordath shrugged in response, grinning at the bartender before turning back to his fellow Krath. “Galleros, you want to know this so you can blend in on missions to some seedier places right?”

The malachite skinned man nodded, staring at his hand. “Right, that and the Commissioner's office gives so little credits as an operation’s fund. I have to be able to supplement it somehow and this seems like a logical choice. With the Force on my side I should be able to predict the flow of a game when I sit down, thus increasing my odds of winning.”

Mick and Kordath glanced at one another, a rueful smile on the Ryn’s face. “Well that might help in this variation but I wouldn’t rely on it. Part of it’s skill and part of it is blind luck, mate. If the guy across from you ends up with an Idiot’s Array, no amount of the Force is going to get you your credits back. And if we had a randomizer here, luck can run wild. Trust me when I tell you, if you try and rely on the Force to win at a game like Sabaac...hah. You’ll end up in an alley with a broken skull and your pockets turned out. Now I don’t see an ante on the table, lads.”

The Ryn tossed in two credit pieces, and waited while the other two shifted some coins into the center of the table. Glancing first at his own cards, then at the other two men the Priest smiled. “Alright then gentlemen...bets? Anyone? Okay three from Galleros, are you matching that Mick? Grand, I’ll match as well. Anybody want to discard and draw? No? Fine then...I’m sitting at eighteen. Galleros has….twenty, nice, and Mick has….negative twenty two! Pot goes to our illustrious alcohol alchemist!”

“Wait, I thought the goal was twenty three?” Galleros watched with a forlorn look as the pot was swept up by the barkeep.

Kordath rubbed at his eyes and sighed, before picking up his glass of whiskey. “Look, I told you before. Twenty three, positive or negative, closest one to either of those is the winner. Mick was closest, thus, you’re out five credits. Now if we were playing proper, you’d be anteing up to the hand and Sabaac pot. You get a twenty three, positive or negative, when we call and you win the Sabaac pot, and the game ends. Or an Idiot’s Array, but those are so rare and chances are you’ll never see one.”

Galleros nodded, his face going passive as his mind picked apart every bit of what Kordath was telling him. Already the gears were turning towards his end goal, of using Sabaac as a form of disposable income to supplement his operation’s fund. And for general profit he thought as the barest gleam of avarice appeared in his emerald eyes.

“So...this Sabaac pot, it doesn’t cash out unless you hit the right number, or manage an Array? I see...perhaps we should make things more interesting, and try that out?” The Zelosian smiled at the other two men, tossing a pair of credits on to the table near where the current ante was sitting.

“Mick, you okay with this?” The Rodian grunted and nodded, his one eye fixed on the green skinned Krath. “And that “certain number” is of course twenty three, that’s called a Pure Sabaac. Well then...let’s play.”

Over the course of the next hour Galleros watched the cards closely, committing the various faces to memory. Eventually the Idiot came into his hand and he was gently reminded by his fellows to keep playing, as he had stopped to scrutinize it. Kordath decided to make things more amusing by switching up to a five card variant, and the Zelosian felt that the Force was with him as he picked up a positive two and three card. Those and an Idiot made an Array, so the Ryn had told him. And the Sabaac pot was sitting pretty at an amount over what the Krath made in a month from his Clan stipend.

As they moved through to the discard and draw portion of the hand, Sjl began to feel anxious. When the cards failed to turn his way a new thought arouse, a casual wave of his hand under the table causing a serving droid to stumble and fall. As the other two card players turned to view the source of sudden noise, Galleros took a deep breath and focused on the Ryn and Rodian.

Mick shook his head slightly, growling something out in Rodese at the droid before turning back to play. Next to him Kordath felt an itch inside his head for a moment, which he ignored by taking another sip of whiskey. Galleros turned his cards over, demanding a call and watched smugly as the other two men let out sounds of disbelief and surprise. An Idiot’s Array sat before the Zelosian, who smiled widely at the other two as he reached forward to sweep up his winnings.

“Well then, Kordath I think you’re a fine teacher of this game. And I very much appreciate all the credits, gentlemen, but it’s getting quite late.” The Priest stood up from his seat and bowed to the Rodian and the Ryn in turn, as he shoved credits into his robes. Kordath stared at the table with a shocked look on his face before he started to clear the cards in an almost mechanical manner. He was stopped by Mick, who let out a hiss of anger as Bleu moved to scoop up Galleros’ winning hand.

“What? Hey...wait a second...that’s not an Idiot, that’s a bloody five! What did you have Mick? Are you...blast it you actually had a Pure Sabaac in hand? I’m never playing cards with you again, Mick. I cannot read your...face...where are you going?”

Kordath turned to watch Mick shout at a pair of serving droids near the doorway to the mess hall, who turned to block the Zelosian from leaving. Galleros turned to face the one eyed ex Sergeant, hand near the lightsaber hanging from his belt.

“Told him using the Force to cheat people in Sabaac was a bad idea,” muttered the Ryn.