Star Wars: Dar'Aliit

Chapter Sixteen: When All the Chips are Down

19 BBY Illandin

Never show up to work drunk. Unless of course your work is supposed to be in a bar, and you're trying to fit into the naturally unruly crowd.

I sit down at the table and slam the bottle of gin in front of me. "Deal me in."

There's a whisper. I can see them all looking at my face. From my snooping, aka listening in while I drink—this place has good drinks—I can tell from first glance this "highly official game" the Republic wants me to participate in is really more like a back door type. You get in by being in the right place at the right time and having enough money.

A Clawdite leans in, his face morphing for larger fangs as he glares at me. "Whaddya want, clone?"

"I live here. I wanna play." I toss a couple of chips on the table. "What's the buy in?"

"Nothing a deserter could afford."

I lean forward, gripping the bottle like a weapon. "You sure?" I hiss back.

The Nemoidian to the right sighs. "Just let him play. Clones come in here all the time looking to lose money."

I get a parting hiss and the clawdite slinks back. He disguises himself as a human. His teeth shrink away. I can see his eyes, though. They're just like mine. He's mocking me.

"Buy in?" I ask again and take a swig of the gin before putting it back down. I have half a bottle left till I'm too slammed to think.

"Fifty."

I reach for my pocket.

The Clawdite corrects his companion. "Fifty thousand."

I pull out the chips anyway and toss them in. "There. Fifty," I pause to stare down my opponent, "Thousand."

There's a snarl. Two others sit around the table. One is a man who looks human but he likely isn't. Something about his eyes doesn't hit right. The last is a nervous looking Leyakian with his broad forehead and wide darting eyes.

I recline in my seat. A droid deals a hand. If these guys are playing for the stakes of separatist arms, they don't act like it. They might be expendable pawns just like me.

A short glance at my hand tells me everything I need to know. And after the first round, it's clear the Leyakian has a nervous tell. He flicks his cards when he's bluffing. The Clawdite has a bad habit of losing his concentration and letting his features relax when he's scared, and the Nemoidian, he's a pretty good bluffer.

I still beat them all hands down.

Krodyck, the Nemoidian, is my only real opponent here. General Nidor did put a pretty big emphasis on the fact this came from the Chancellor and if I lose, all that money is going straight into Separatist arms.

Nerves tell me to reach for the Gin. I reach for my next hand instead. Complete bantha crap. I fold early. Nothing gained, nothing lost. I down another quarter of the bottle. My cards aren't getting much better per round. I make a few hands win, but only narrowly.

Not in all my years have I played with hands this bad. Is this game rigged? I check for signs, but the droid is provided by the establishment. I have to assume it's fair.

Another bust. I'm going to lose. Blyn, the clawdite flashes me an extra toothy smile.

"Say, clone, how'd you get fifty-thousand to buy in with us?"

I look at my poor hand. "Played a few other guys out of their pockets. I like gambling."

"So much you'd leave the army?" Krodyck asks.