Never Tell a Corellian the Odds

[Sterling Malory Archer]

And endless desert with twin suns and all the vices the verse had to offer. To most, that was all that Tatooine had to offer. To an intrepid corellian Tatooine represented one hell of a business opportunity. A shuttle descended through the light blue atmosphere of the planet to land in the settlement of Anchorhead. Anchorhead had, at different times in the settlements life, been a proud thriving city and a deserted scrap heap. For now Anchorhead was a stable enough little settlement. Its population was composed of moisture farmers, criminals, and smugglers. The occasional pilot passed through looking for work or repairs on their ships. Work was what brought Quinn to Tatooine out on the outer fringe of the Galaxy.

The shuttle touched down and the Corellian strolled out with a smirk on his face and a whistle on his lips. He didn’t particularly like the idea of cavorting with scum and slime like those that populated the desert world. That said, if there was anywhere to make a quick credit from the stupid it was Tatooine. Quinn stopped just outside the spaceport and tapped a small boy on the shoulder. The kid whirled around to face him and Quinn crouched to stand on the boy’s level. A quick slip of five credits and Quinn was on his way to the local Cantina. Not the big cantina near the spaceport. Quinn had no interest in taking money from innocent, stupid spacers. No, he was headed straight for the most wretched cantina in all of Anchorhead.

It wasn’t ten minutes walking before he reached the cantina tucked away against the settlement’s walls. As he walked in Quinn was greeted with the smell of smoke and the sounds of debauchery.

“My My My. This looks like my kind of place.”

The Corellian strolled towards the back of the Cantina and by extension the Sabaac tables to sit down. He bought in on the table and started to play with a grin on his face. Quinn was never more at home than he was taking other peoples money at the Sabaac table. The fact that it was gangsters and death stick dealers just made it all the sweeter.

“So. Who all is in the mood to lose their credits. And someone get me a drink, I'm positively parched.”

 

[Chairdor]

Back on Tatooine it seemed. Hiro never had much luck on this world in acquiring credits, though he did seem to be mildly proficient in finding compadres to get him out of a fix. Unfortunately none seemed to be found in his travels on the dusty planet, nor jobs to pay his maintenance fees as he tumbled into to town after town only to be told that every bounty was caught, every wall defended, every enemy camp scouted. So as his credits grew short and the days grew long, the bot wondered what would happen to him when the rope finally ran out. Would he rust up, would his gears dry leaving him paralyzed till he shut down...then what would he melt into the desert sands or perhaps be picked up by scavengers to become parts in a hundred new droids.

These depressing calculations only lengthened the droid's gate and sped his stride, he would not die here, he would function...he would survive. As he traversed another series of dunes, same as the last he crossed he took to wondering why. Why did he wish to survive so much when all he truly did with the survival is travel onward and survive more. It was an endless and pitiful cycle at times and the circular logic was all too clear to the logic centers in the droid's head.

Still he was here already, might as well keep on.

Luck.

That concept suddenly stuck with Hiro, what was luck by the continued application of statistics...in the end it is only logical that all percentages will come to zero or a point so low that it might as well be zero. There was a science to it, an exact and calculated nature that had only one unknown variable. Time, how long would it take to hit zero and what could one do in that time. Furthermore the concept of good and bad luck confounded Hiro as statistics had no moral nature to them, they favored none as they were merely numbers, figures as impersonal as a cactus and less huggable too.

As he thought on this, oddly enough he came to his stop, Anchorhead.

Parking his speeder alongside a series of bikes outside a lively looking Cantina, Hiro entered and felt once more, at home again. As he walked through the threshold however he noticed one thing was different and it was not the setting, but rather a feeling, a feeling in his pocket of extreme lightness. He had just one night of credits left for a recharge and fuel for his speeder. That would give him three days travel at best. That wasn't enough...then he saw it. The gambling tables in the back. Thinking back on luck and it's calculable nature Hiro got a spark of an idea as he moved past a far too friendly looking Bith server and came to sit amongst the fine looking gentlemen and ladies who looked to just be starting a game. One was speaking boisterously and seemed to have a tremendous amount of confidence, so with that observation Hiro made his first bet,

"Howdy pardners, hope this tables got room fer one more..we doin pardner play cause I want that guy," With that Hiro pointed to the Corellian calling for a drink as he handed a server a credit chip to get the man whatever drink he wished, "So let's get dealin fore I kick the bolt and bucket,"

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Oh, Quinn was liking this situation better and better by the moment. Someone buying him a drink and offering to partner up? Well, usually the corellian wouldn't even consider working with someone else to make his profit. But that fella had been nice enough to buy him a drink in his time of need, so the least Quinn could do is humor him for a little while. Who knew, maybe he would come out on the other side better for it. "Partner play sounds good to me, since this fine gentleman was so accommodating. I'll take a nice clean glass of Corellian Ale. Spiced. Does anyone else have any problems with a little partner game?" When everyone agreed, finding a new friend to play with, The dealer pushed out the electronic cards and the games began. Quinn looked down at his first hand of the afternoon and grinned wider than a nexu. Not bad, Not bad. He slid two cards onto the interference field to lock them in and put a small bet of just ten credits down.

"So, Partner. Just what brings you to this little dump. Cause it sure as hell cant be the great food or sparkling local personalities." If he thought he offended anyone, Quinn sure didnt seem to care. And when they brought his drink he just took a long swig and grinned across the table at his new partner.

 

[Chairdor]

As Hiro took his seat he began to note his observation that he sat among gentlemen was overly generous to say the least. There were four pairs including Hiro and the fellow in the brown coat across from him. While he sat across from the genial looking man the sights to his left and right were a collective sort of disgusting which made the droid quite glad he never installed smell sensors.

Two Gammoreans who looked to be brothers...or maybe husband and wife sat across from one another with grins as large as their bellies. They wore strange clothes adorned with all sorts of glittering blinking fixtures which led the droid to the assumption that they were performers of some kind, while circus was possible perhaps it was something more adult or illegal, Hiro noted that second possibility certainly fit the sending, but that was the final note in what could have been a very dark and seedy chapter of thought.

So forgetting the greedy pigs Hiro gave a gander to the rest of his competition, he noted a hard looking blue skinned fellow, quite a rarity on far off Tatooine to see a Chiss, but there was was plain as day in some strange rag wear either denoting cultural respect or perhaps he had just been very badly burned. This confusing narrative was further compounded by the Chisses partner a voluptuous looking Hutt wearing a female personality who kept winking at him very very painfully slowly. The Chiss seemed to notice but pretended not to as he averted his eyes. The droid saw this as a potential weakness to use later as Sabaac had a way of changing right from under you if you didn't pay it the proper amount of attention.

Finally there sat a Mandolorian with his helmet sitting on the table, lifeless visor staring at the dealer. The Mandolorian himself let his own eyes wander around the table, doing the same sizing up Hiro had decided to do. His partner was another oddity, an Ewok who seemed to have a sweet tooth as he continually ordered a wide variety of baked goods from the Cantina's kitchen. Hiro found himself transfixed on how he chewed and then spit up the cud of the food only to swallow it again. It was quite unlike any readings on Ewok dietary practices he could summon.

In any case there was a card game to win and his partner was speaking to him. Hiro looked down his mask allowing him to eye both the dealer and his partner at once as he replied.

"Tatooine has a way of callin me back, but really I'm like a tumbleweed, just go where the wind takes me. And on the topic of personality, well I don't know seems we got some lively folks right here at this table,"

This got a slight chuckle out of some of the players who assumed Hiro was referring to everyone else but them in particular when really he was referring to all of them.

"Alright let's get this game a goin," the dealer declared, a happy young looking man who seemed to be new enough in the business not to be bitter but old enough to know what he was doing. Skillfully the dealer sliced and diced the deck until he was satisfied it had been properly shuffled. With a small nod he placed the cards on the table in pairs of twos and then clicked a button starting the random interface on the cards, from here on out no ones hand was their hand anymore as cards would randomly change in value.

The cards magnetically arrived before their players and as they picked em up, the game began. Hiro looked to his brown coated compadre and decided now was a good as time as any for introductions,

"Names Hiro by the by, what ya got ridin on this game?" he asked nonchalantly as his turn came and went as he threw a few chips in to the pot to buy in.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

As the bet went around the table Quinn couldn’t help but to smirk to himself. He was a corellian, which meant that games of chance were as easy to him as breathing and far more profitable. So when the betting came around again he tossed a few more chips in. Jovial eyes flicked up from his cards as Quinn put his boots up on the seat directly across from him, not caring too much who was sitting there. The Corellian sized up his new partner once again, noting what seemed to be a sense of humor. Something that was severely lacking in this part of the verse. The betting pool went around a few more times and Quinn gave a wide smile across the table to his partner.

“I’m Quinn. Quinn Mcclaron. On the topic of what I have riding on this game? It ain’t much. Just the credits I have on me. See, works been a spot tight for someone like me. I’m just lookin’ to fill the space in between and hopefully my wallet. Speakin’ of. I apologize in advance for this fella’s.”

With that, Quinn came up with his cards and a small smile on his face. 22, a solid hand and enough to win him the hand pot. The others payed and he could only smirk across at his partner. It would be abundantly clear that the Corellian wasn’t just bluffing with his boasting and, as the next hand went out he just glanced down at his hand.

“So, Hiro. What’s your line of work? If you don’t mind me askin’”

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro continued to scope the crowd all about him while simultaneously keeping an eye on his own cards, lucky his eyes could move about independently of one another that way. He didn't have any x-ray vision or the like, but even if he did he wouldn't use it. Beyond the simple moral objection, the droid knew to cheat in cards in a place like this was to cheat death, and death like the house, always wins. So with that in his processor the bot continued to bet and make his small plays and forays, attempting to get his opponents tells. However so focused on his own moves and his opponents he did little to note his partners moves, so he was more than a little surprised to see the beautiful hand he pulled, ending the round. As the Corelian raked in his chips the droid lowered his cards and raised his hand to his chin in admiration of the quick gambling fellow. As it was partner play he knew he'd be getting a take of that so he grinned behind his mask as the others soured.

Hearing the question the droid considered it for a moment before providing his simple answer,

"Drifter, grifter, bounty hunter," he summarized concisely before adding, "I do what I can to get by pardner, sall we can do sometimes,"

The dealer recollected the cards and then began to shuffled them as well as giving them a pulse charge to remove any faint static that could damage the cards ability to charge over time. When he was through the cards began to come back out and the Hutt began to speak, in basic as she noted the company,

"Well I sell baked goods, you ever have anything with Nal Hutta Butta, that's me, tee hee, I'm playin this game to win a nice little honey moon for me and my smoopy poopy," with that she looked over at the Chiss who proceeded to bury his head in his cards in response. Slowly she licked her slimy lips and said with glee, "Ain't he just a blue mooon,"

A faint mumble of despair came from the bandaged Chiss as the ewok threw his latest plate of goodies, now mere crumbs, and began to rapidly speak in a tongue unfamiliar even to the droids extensive collective of stored language data, seemed the Mandolorian noticed Hiro's confusion as he commented,

"Don't worry that you can't understand him, he isn't say anything important...bounty hunting eh? With those antiques? Who do you hunt tax dodgers?"

Hiro turned his attention to the insulting Mando as he looked down at his cards, noting they were poor at the time he allowed his suppressors which kept him from reacting to lighten as he arched ever so slightly in response to the poor hand, sensing weakness the Mando pushed on,

"Sabaac is a game of warriors, strongest always takes the pot, so whatdya say?" he said with a grin as he piled a large amount of chips up, "Man enough?"

"Droid enough," Hiro responded throwing down his own chips, noting he was all in with the move.

Knowing it was statistically unlikely that his partner would get two 22s in a row, Hiro carefully waited for his cards to change and the winds of fortune to shift with them as he eyed his opponent and the bets continued to circle about.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Quinn watched the Hutt and the Chiss with mild interest on his face. He took a long draw from his drink and raised it up. “To the happy couple. May your glass never be empty and your luck never run out. Well, Except for today. Where would I be if you guys stopped paying into this pot?” Even as he spoke the Corellian’s eyes tracked over to the Mandalorian who was insulting his partner. This one would be trouble later, considering he knew when to push his advantage. But there was something odd in the way he did it… It was a bit too much too soon.

The card values shifted again and Quinn looked down at his hand. Eighteen. Solid, but not usually a winning hand. He was more interested in just how the others had fared. Not to mention his partner, who would be played out if the betting kept up any longer. The Mandalorian shifted a little in his seat, his eyebrow furrowing for the briefest of moments and his hands moving to hide his cards.

“Since when is Sabaac a game of Warriors…? Last I heard, it was a game for degenerates and smugglers. So which one are you?” Quinn smirked across at the Mandalorian who, in true Mandalorian style, bared his teeth at the comment. “You think you’re man enough to take me on?” Was the growled reply.

Quinn watched his opponent’s eyes carefully for a few moments, then smiled. “No, but I’m man enough to take your money. Coming up with eighteen.” There was an awful lot of swearing going on at the opposite end of the table, the big mandalorian throwing down his cards in disgust. A Thirty Two, meaning he had bombed out and would have to pay into the Sabaac pot. A quick glance around the table revealed another bomb out and a negative 16. Quinn turned his gaze to his partner as he raked in his portion of the chips, waiting for the droid to do the same.

“Although, I guess it can be an honest way to make a living.” The Corellian smirked across the table.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro put his head down as another wave of positive feedback surged through him. There was little panning involved in what he did and in the end his cards were crap, but by enticing the Mandolorian in to betting hard Hiro had doubled his own pot as Quinn swept in with his impeccable luck once more. He noticed Quinn continued to antagonize the warrior in the corner who at this point was staring down at his fallen cards with a look of supreme indignation, as if his loss was entirely on them. Well it was but he was the one who backed them in the first place. Hiro as much as anyone knew the value of a solid code and a steady firing hand, but those traits were quite useless in cards. This seemed to be a battle the Mando couldn't win.

The Gamorean couple were distraught as their chips lowered considerably and the Hutt was next to weeping. The only two who seemed to not be in tears or enraged by the loss seemed to be the Ewok lost in his continuous gluttony and the Chiss who saw he wouldn't have to go on that honeymoon after all. However Hiro knew the strategic advantage of a well made retreat. Luck like the tide, ebbed and flowed and the droid knew easy come easy go was a phrase specifically aimed at the activity he was in. Unfortunately the reason for his success was the same reason for his failure to get out as Quinn hardly seemed willing to leave the table behind.

He tipped his hat to the comment but behind his mask was a face of unease as eyes narrowed all around the table looking to Hiro, but especially looking to Quinn. How odd to win to hands in a row so handily, more odd still to find a convenient partner at a moments notice. These were the possible thoughts running through the collective players heads, but in the end all the droid knew was their expressions spelled trouble for the winning pair. Even the Ewok was ouraged now as his request for more treats was denied as he didn't hit the minimum chip requirement any longer. Hungry in more ways than one the tiny bear screamed to the dealer to get going.

As such the cards were passed out swiftly and Hiro turned his over to reveal another average hand, that could change in any given way with a static shift. Determined to end this on good terms Hiro attempted to appear personable as he looked first to the Gamorean at his side,

"So what kinda show you in?"

The pig-man merely stared at Hiro for a moment, but it seemed very few people asked him this question and he enjoyed answering it, so he began as the blind bets were made,

"Me and my honey boo boo over there are in a circus that blew through town, unfortunately it blew out without us,"

"Targal," the female pig said obviously embarrassed that he would share that

"What dear? It's the truth, we're playing to get enough to get back home, my pops got a nerf farm...man last time I saw him he said I was dead to him if I left the farm to perform..."

Hiro was about to be sympathetic to the Gamorean's plight when the Mandolorian spoke up,

"Loud of crap,"

"Scuse me?" the Gamorean said as he looked over with a huff

"Saw ads for your show all over town, you work at the casino next door, lie again and you will lie on the floor with one more hole in your body,"

Hiro looked to the Mando as the Gamorean's both scrunched further into their chairs, looking up from their cards little and speaking even less. The droid nodded appreciatively to the warrior for his revelation, but the Mando merely scowled and continued his betting. At this point the Ewok was on a war path, gibbering suger fed nonsense as he looked over his cards then to the other players, keeping the precious cards tight to his breast to avoid cheating gazes. Eventually the dealer placed the final card down and called for last bets. Hiro looked down at his own cards and noted he should have been paying more attention, but fortune favored him all the same, a 21. Not perfect, but solid enough to handily win this round.

"Sorry folks, to be entirely honest I don't believe in luck, something wonky is going on with probability however," with that he scooped up another pile of chips leaving half for his partner.

All around him the players were livid. Pure rage covered their faces, except for the Chiss. This changed however when the Huttess said,

"Well dear guess well just have to honeymoon on Nar Shadaa and stay with my parents, I know they said they hated you but I'm sure they got over that, and I hear the swamps are lovely this time of year,"

Suddenly the Chiss was shaking as well, his crimson eyes somehow burning even hotter with this news.

While fortune in cards favored them, it seemed it may cause misfortune for the pair very soon. When that occured, Hiro hoped he had an ace up his sleeve with this new found pal

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

The Corellian was well aware that he was managing to upset the local rabble with his string of good luck. Not to say his luck wasn’t usually good. However for some reason or another lady luck was smiling down on him, and who was he to deny her gifts? The cards went around again as he watched the other players, not really looking down at his own cards. The trick to Sabaac wasn’t to play your hand… It was to play your opponent’s hands. Quinn was forced to look down at the first round of betting. Thirty Five, meaning he would bomb out if anyone but his partner came up in the next few rounds. So Quinn did what he did best. The man started talking.

His eyes drifted to the Chiss and he smiled calmly. “Now, the rest of them I get. The Gamorean's over there, the bucket head. Even the little guy.” The more he spoke, the angrier the Mandalorian was getting. Quinn was trying to goad the man, not into a fight, but into being too bold with his cards. “To put it frankly… What is a guy like you doing in a situation like this?” As his partner came up, Quinn looked down and couldn’t help but to sigh in relief. He would have bombed out hard had he been caught out. As it stood, the Chiss and Hutt were paying into the Sabaac pot. A pot that was quickly becoming fat.

One look around told Quinn all he needed to know about the situation they were in. The beings around the table were spitting mad, mad enough to do something stupid. But if Quinn stood up now, it would only make them angrier. They needed a chance to win back their earnings. Maybe Lady Luck would ease up just a bit for a while… No need for him to be overly lucky. Still, luck was no substitute for a good plan.

Quinn’s hand slowly slipped down and undid the strap holding his blaster in place, leaving one hand there. “So… Next hand anybody?”

The cards were dealt out again and the values began shifting, and all the while Quinn just watched the others. All were simply fuming with the Mandalorian looking the most incensed of them all. And when Quinn looked down the situation only went from bad to worse. He had a solid twenty two. Of course, he couldn’t come up so early on… So he locked in a Two and a Three and left the rest to shift. That would keep him from bombing out barring something terrible happening… And as the betting went around Quinn put more than his fair share in. He just had to placate them. Four more times the cards shifted as Quinn stayed just below bomb out. On the fifth shift the Mandalorian cried out “Coming up on Twenty Two!” before Quinn even had a chance to look down at his hand. The mando was already raking in the chips when Quinn winced at his cards.

“Sabaac.” Quinn spoke quietly with the barest hint of regret in his voice. It wasn’t just Sabaac… It was the Idiot, 0, 2, and 3. The Idiot’s array… One of the most improbably hands in the entire game. Quinn laid his cards down and reached for the Sabaac pot only to have a gloved fist slam down in front of his fingers.

The Mandalorian had murder in his eyes as he screamed. “You cheating son of a kath hound! You and that… That… Abomination are in Cahoots! Im not letting you leave with MY credits!” The other beings at the table seemed to agree whole heartedly right up to the part where the Mandalorian said that the credits were his. You could cut the tension in the air with a vibrosword… The tension snapped as the Mandalorian reached for his blaster and one of the Gamorean’s went for a vibroblade. Quinn’s hand was already on his blaster as he drew it and raised it to head level, his sight firmly on the center of the Mandalorian’s chest. The Mando froze, as did everyone else at the Table. The Dealer scurried off in the din and the Cantina’s other patrons turned to watch the table with mixed looks of distaste and excitement.

Quinn gently thumbed the safety on his blaster to off and gestured with it towards the man’s blaster. “Now then… I ain’t aimin’ to cause any undue harm… But mark my words. You reach for your piece and I’ll put a hole in your chest bigger than the little guy’s appetite. Now then, why don’t we all just take a step back… And think this through like civilized adults.” The Mandalorian simply stared the Corellian down with the strangest sparkle in his eye. It was the kind of sparkle that was usually reserved for men at war or mass murdering psychopaths. Oddly enough it was not the Mandalorian who drew first.

The Chiss raised his hand from under the table, a small holdout blaster clenched in one shaking hand. He clearly wasn’t in love with the idea of spending his honeymoon in a house full of hutts. Not that Quinn could blame him. The first blasterbolt was wildly off mark and hit the wall next to Quinn’s head. Quinn shifted his gunsight to the Chiss but that movement gave the Mandalorian the opening he needed to draw his blaster and begin firing. Rather than stick around for it the Corellian rolled out of his seat and called out to his partner.

“Don’t suppose you brought your piece, Partner?”

Even as he spoke Quinn was pulling over one of the Cantina Tables and crouching behind it as the Mandalorian’s blaster bolts poured into the furniture piece.

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro was afraid of this. Cards certainly wasn't a gentleman's game. It involved a lot of money, pride, and relied on factors often beyond the players control. With these factors in mind and the surly lot the droid had been stuck with, Hiro knew that getting the credits he needed to maintain his body would be a tall order indeed. He wasn't keen on the Mandolorian calling him an abomination, but rudeness wasn't justification for a hole in ones head. However when the person tried to put a hole in your head, well then that may justify getting a little rough with them.

First thing was first, Hiro had to create some sort of distraction. Pulling out his trusty smoke grenades, he said to Quinn,

"Ain't got my peace pardner, but I do have my war,"

With that he chucked two grenades to each side of the table entombing the enraged players in plumes of thick smoke. As coughing fits began and shots rang though Hiro rolled as well, under the table and giving Quinn a wave the droid swiftly moved to the center of the table. Getting onto his knees the droid placed his metal hands upon the bottom then working his hydraulics immediately applied all the pressure he could to a vertical and mildly horizontal force. the result was the table smashing upwards directly towards the Mandolorian the immobile Hutt and the unarmed Gamorean. While the droid was loathe to bring these so far non combatants into the fray he found them all to willing to join it. In response to the incoming table, the Hutt female pulled out a blaster cleverly hidden in the folds of her hide, she and the Mandolorian began to smash the wooden piece to a pulp as Hiro had to fall to the ground.

He wasn't aiming to harm however, merely distract as the fallen table sent the chips piled upon it to scatter to all corners of the casino. This had the immediate effect of sending the Ewok and unarmed Gammorean scurrying after the chips while the remaining four were no longer joined in cause against Quinn and Hiro, the chips were off the table, but now more than ever it was all up for grabs.

Standing with one of his Protector revolvers drawing, Hiro found himself in the crossfire as the Chiss emptied his holdout blaster not towards the Mandolorian, Quinn, or even him, but at his soon to be wife. Ducking the shots Hiro saw the Hutt's hide take two of the heated blasts but the third left her dying as he shouted out,

"I never loved you, when this is over I'll have enough for the surgery!"

With that he aimed at Hiro but as luck would have it his blaster was empty, Hiro aimed to cripple the Chiss, but at that moment his head exploded due to the expert shot of the Mandolorian,

"No honor," the warrior muttered as he turned to the droid,

"Abomination..."

With that Hiro fell to his knee as a shot flew towards where his head last was one millisecond before. Utilizing every reaction servo in his system he fired two shots into the warriors thick armor, the first sending him back with a kinetic kick, the second scorching though causing him to cry out in pain. As he fell back, twitching Hiro looked to Quinn to see how he was faring as he shouted through the smoke,

"How ya doin pardner?"

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

As Hiro turned his cover into a battering missile, Quinn winced a little and brought his blaster to bear on the Mandalorian’s head. The Mandalorian however was already staggering back under the pressure of the blaster bolts. Quinn never had been one to kill if he could avoid it. So his wrist jerked down and he released a single blaster bolt directly into the Mandalorian’s blaster. The weapon exploded as the bolt ignited its fuel cell and left the Mandalorian down one working hand and without a blaster. “Sit, Stay” Quinn frowned and turned his body to face the other patron’s of the bar. The credit chips on the floor and the chaos of the fight were more than enough to entice two rough looking sentients to join in.

The first combatent was an angry looking aqualish bounty hunter. Or maybe he was happy, what did Quinn know? All Aqualish looked perpetually ill tempered which fit right in with their race’s reputation. This one was wearing light armor with a good old blaster carbine on his side. A blaster carbine which he quickly brought to bear on Quinn. At the same time, his partner, a Twi’lek, brought a pair of matching blaster pistols up and began firing at the ewok and gammoreans. The ewok went down first with a high pitched squeal, one which would no doubt haunt Quinn’s dreams for the rest of his natural life. The sound turned Quinn’s jovial mood downright deadly as he brought the heavy blaster pistol up and squeezed off a round into the Twi’lek’s chest.

The blaster bolt punched a steaming hole in the being’s chest cavity and Quinn turned his weapon on the Aqualish. Seeing his friend go down the ill tempered aqualish dove behind the bar and started blind firing over the top. In response Quinn sent a single blaster bolt over the top of the bar causing the firing to cease and the Aqualish to roar out its displeasure at the situation. Rough looking patrons everywhere were standing now, watching the fight with no small amount of anger and greed. The Corellian went back to back with Hiro and grimaced, holding his weapon outstretched.

“Me, I’m just dandy. Being shot at in a cantina was actually on my to do list. Now listen up!”

Quinn raised his blaster and fired it into the ceiling once. Stupid, he knew. After all, he would only have two more shots with the blaster before he had to reload it. But he wanted everyones attention.

“Me and my newfound friend here are gonna collect our winnings and walk out of here real peaceful like. If anyone has any reason we shouldn’t, speak now or forever hold yer peace.”

 

[Chairdor]

As the chaos continued and the smoke cleared, Hiro saw most of the gamblers had fled to cover or different casinos depending on if they were losing or not. Quinn seemed to have fared well despite the high mortality rate at their table something the droid was perpetually glad of as he calmed the situation with a well timed shot. As he looked on to the surrounding folk all looking on with hunger like lesser predators around a krayt dragon corpse, he kept a revolver ready in case things got any uglier than they already had.

Looking down for just a moment to get a picture of where the biggest piles of chips were, Hiro snapped his optic sensors back up. Relying on that memory and a series of calculations he was able to accurately map the floor so he didn't have to look down to pick up the small piles of chips that had been scattered by his earlier actions. Placing the fallen gambling pieces in his various coat pockets, the droid continued to scan the casino for any funny business. However it seemed some gamblers were already growing bored with the spectacle and slowly shuffled off. It appeared everything was going to go fine until Hiro came upon the Mandolorian.

Looking down at the crippled fellow he saw the empty stub of his hand still bleeding profusely, his face a perpetually growing scowl. Hiro calculated the cost of a replacement hand and swiftly placed that many chips upon his chest to defuse the situation...or so he thought. As the droid leaned down the Mandos working hand shot up gripping the droids back and pulling him down mere inches from his bloodied face as he spat,

"I don't want your charity..." he said his breathing slow and calculated as Hiro felt the heat of a thermal detonator at his back, "I WANT YOUR LIFE!"

Lifting himself with all force and sending the Mando tumbling into the corner, still gripping his device Hiro looked to Quinn and yelled, "Run!" he was about to do as he bid when he looked and calculated the fleeing customers in accordance to the blast radius. Noting that if he fled now six people would assuredly die, he knew what he had to do. Rushing towards the fallen warrior the droid grabbed the detonator and flung it towards the deepest pocket of the concrete ceiling, timing it just so the device would explode then. As it blew the sturdy ceiling cracked, but only just so to release a large chunk of rock directly upon the Mando. Hiro looked to save the warrior but he stared back and mouthed, no. Then a moment later he was no more.

Returning to Quinn his jacket jingling full of chips the droid really could think of only one thing to say,

"What can I say, I'm an all in kinda droid"

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Very few things were better for clearing out a cantina than an explosion inside. And sure enough when the dust cleared Quinn was the only other being standing around in the cantina with Hiro. Everyone else had either fled the scene or taken cover underneath tables and the bar. As his partner collected the chips the Corellian looked around the room and assessed damages. At least Five Dead… One of them the Mandalorian who had started the fight in the first place. It was still a crying shame to see a life wasted without the chance for self defense. His gaze dropped down to the lifeless form of the Ewok who had been so full of life only minutes before.

Quinn holstered his weapon as Hiro approached, pockets a jingling with credit chips. Despite his foul mood the Corellian could only grin at the comment, gesturing towards the remains of the cantina. The place was in absolute shambles…

“I can tell. I haven’t seen a warzone like this since I was gambling on Nar Shaddaa. And that was before the fighting started. You sure do know how to handle yourself partner, and from what I can tell you did your best not to take any lives. I can respect that. What say we walk and talk while things cool down here? I wouldn’t fancy being stuck in this dump when the enforcers decide to pop in…”

The Corellian stepped over a particularly large chunk of broken glass and picked up an unfinished drink from the counter. He downed the drink, no doubt belonging to some poor schlub, and set a credit chip down on the bar. With that Quinn headed out onto the street with a call out over his shoulder.

“That is, if you feel like havin’ some conversation?”

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro took a moment to optically scan the area around him, all about him many of the players in their card game had played their final act, the proud Mandolorian, the desperate Chiss, the delusional Hutt, the Ewok whose only crime was having an insatiable sweet tooth. Each and everyone was, despite the vastness of the universe a different part of it, something lost that can never truly be replaced. Hiro knew of some who would say what is the difference of the loss of a few drops when in an ocean, but the droid could only come up with the preconceived answer already stored away in his databanks, a mysterious bit of wisdom with no source point. That wisdom was that what are oceans, but the collective of drops of water.

He tipped his hat to Quinns compliment and swiftly replied,

"Same to you friend,"

Noting his suggestion that the two skeedadle Hiro could only agree. Hefting up the large collection of chips he had managed to gather he called out,

"Let's giddy up while giddyuppin is good,"

Stopping by a battered vendor droid on the way out Hiro swiftly dumped the gambling chips the two had used in the game. For a moment the droid shook violently and Hiro feared it was broken, but just as that fear came, it passed as the droid declared,

"Thank you for your patronage,"

Credits poured from the bot and Hiro noted that while it wasn't broken to the point that it didn't pour chips it certainly was damaged in its calculations, pouring many more chips than were needed. Before Hiro was what he swiftly calculated to be several thousand credits more than he and Quinn were due in their winnings. In the chaos no one would notice the difference and the owners had little to worry about as insurance would cover the damages. Still these casino owners were crooks and thus to steal their money would not be proper justice it would only lower the droid to their despicable level. So scanning the chips and calculating their value he settled on the proper amount the two had won fair and square and evenly divided it before putting the winnings into two separate pouches in his jacket.

Moving outside to catch up with the gambling man Hiro looked back to see twenty or so armored officers rushing into the building the pair had exited from moments ago. Noting their impeccable timing, the droid felt he could sufficiently relax his danger sensors as he turned to Quinn and said,

"Always got time to talk pardner, by the way didn't want you to leave this behind,"

Hefting the large pouch Quinn's way the droid wondered aloud,

"In the end it's about enough to feed a man for a month...what made that pack see it bein worth their whole dang lives?"

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Quinn took the pouch and frowned deeply, bouncing the credits in hand a few times. His usual sly smirk was missing and the same question had obviously been circling around in his head. Of course, he understood better than most what desperation could do for a man. You ended up doing things that you never thought you could or would just to keep on living. The Corellian began speaking in a slow drawl, his hesitation at the question painfully blatant.

“Men are motivated by all kinds of things, friend. Most of the time those things don’t make no logical sense. At least none that I can see.”

Quinn stopped his walk, figuring they were far enough away that they could blend in with the rabble. He tucked the pouch into his belt and put his hands on his hips.

“Desperation and anger will make sentients do all sorts of crazy things. It’s up to the man what they do with the crazy. As long as they only waste their own lives I don’t have much a problem with it. It ain’t for me to decide what is and isn’t for a man to do. Freedom is too important. But when someone takes the life of another over a few credits? Well, I tend to take that personal.”

It really had been personal, he realized. He could just as easily have left that sleemo to rot in some enforcer’s cell. Instead, he had taken a life for a life. Scum for an innocent. It still didn’t sit no better with him, but he knew it had to be done. If only to clear his own conscience. Quinn unholstered his blaster revolver and popped the cylinder, swapping the entire assembly out with one of his spares from a pouch. With the flick of a wrist he reset the cylinder and holstered the weapon just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sometimes you do somethin’ a little bit crazy just to keep your own skin alive and well. A months eatin’ might be the difference between dyin’ cold and alone on some alien world or finally getting the happiness every being is promised. Its hope, partner. Hope keeps the verse spinning right round. And sometimes, it strikes folks to be fools whether they want to be or not. Hope is the strongest force in the entire verse. Remember that, it might just save yer’ hide someday.”

 

[Chairdor]

Hiro walked alongside the strange Corelian, his previous actions had bespoken someone who didn't see the universe deeply. One who merely wished to get paid and move on throughout the vastness of space and time immemorial. Still it didn't surprise the droid when he was surprised, the man had proven himself capable in cards, in a fight, it was doubtless he was a figure of innumerable talents. As the droid processed the intelligence from Quinn's words Hiro thought on the specific point the Corelian made on the months food being a difference between life and death.

Hiro himself needed the money he won tonight to continue his maintenance and essentially in that way, his existence. In every way thinking on the players he had met, albeit briefly, the droid saw that each saw the game as life and death in a way. Noting that valuation changes about as rapidly as blaster bolts can be exchanged did a lot in the way of explaining why despite all the technological progress made over the millenia, people still starve and murder and never achieve their dreams or hearts desire.

Noting Quinn ended on those words, hope is the strongest force in the universe, he felt a strain of positive feedback, and something more. Noting his logs he noticed a line of code, something akin to...recognition in those words. Yet whatever memory he had he had little memory of having the memory creating quite a conundrum that could only be answered one way, once again his lost life reared its head, an enigma and a shadow forever following him yet without depth or form. The droid noted with some sadness that he may never figure out his past, but he had hope that he might. And as Quinn said, that was strong enough.

Noting that the pair had approached a train depot Hiro turned to the affable gambler and tipped his hat saying simply,

"I hope we meet again" before flipping a credit chip to one of the workers and getting on to who knows where.