A Girl, A Boy and the Stars - A FinnRey story

The Game

The mood in the cantina was turning ugly, fast.

"You're a cheat as well as a liar," the Killik snarled, its clawed hand clasped onto Finn's arm, preventing him from gathering up the pile of credits and hard currency that made up the pot he'd just won.

Finn looked around the Sabacc table at the rogue's gallery of scowling faces; a collection of petty criminals, lowlifes and worse, sporting the most impressive collection of facial scars, bad haircuts and fearsome cosmetic enhancements (artificial tusks, always a bad sign) that he'd seen since the last time they ventured into the Outer Rim.

Threatening as they were, it wasn't the patrons of The Greasy Gungan that worried him most. It was the prospect of explaining to the Princess of Pissed that he'd blown their cover. Again. The situation wasn't lost though; it could still be turned around with a little finesse and charm.

"I didn't cheat," Finn corrected him calmly, removing the Killik's claw and sweeping the pot towards him. "Lando Calrissian himself taught me that play."

This produced another bout of incredulous groans, filthy looks and curses.

"You've got a nerve, son."
"Who is this guy?
"Fuck disa bullshitta."

Ok, not quite the hoped-for reaction. Maybe he'd already overdone it on the name dropping, but a couple of drinks in him and damn, he loved to talk about the old days. He could tell those stories forever.

"So according to you," growled A'Gron, the massive Whiphid whose faded-gold, humanoid bulk dominated the table, tusks twitching in irritation. "You learned Sabacc from Calrissian."

"The master," Finn confirmed.

"Dejarik from Chewbacca."

"Master cheat."

"Flying from Dameron."

"Said I was a fast learner, though he might have been talking about something else."

"Iced Phasma."

"Toasted actually," he chuckled.

"Kicked Kylo Ren's ass."

"More or less."

"Blew up Starkiller with Solo..."

"All my idea. I take full responsibility."

"...and were best buds with General Organa."

"She ran a few things by me, you know."

A'Gron paused for a moment in confusion, his brow furrowing, reflecting the turmoil of the brain within as it struggled to process bullshit of such extravagance. "Next you'll be telling us you fucked Rose Tico."

"I was drunk!" Finn protested. "She took advantage of me."

This blasphemy caused the simmering tension in the mob to boil over into violence. Finn was aware of being struck hard from behind, and thrown forwards onto the table, covering his head to guard against the blows raining down. A'Gron growled something and Finn was grabbed by the shoulders, thrown back into his chair where he sprawled, gasping.

"Take that back now," rasped the furious Whiphid. "And don't ever - ever - spread filthy lies about Saint Tico again."

Finn fought to get his breath back, "I was kidding. Kidding." Fuck his head hurt. He'd forgotten for a moment how a conflation of her legend with her sister's had resulted in Rose being regarded as a holy entity by many in the Rim Worlds, a martyr resurrected from a fiery death in space to wreak vengeance on the First Order at the side of Leia Organa. A new cult worshipping her was spawned every few months. She lapped it up, even when she was sober.