((Part Two of Cantina, Ale, and Sandstorm... just a warning... I don't want things getting incredibly "Oh, hi, I know you!" or "Hey there, what's your name?" right off the bat. The only characters that start that way are characters that know each other... AKA Nalaen and Kira (Blessed Sith and me). Even my second character, Nadira, who has seen Nalaen before will not immediately approach her... get the picture? Ok, here goes.))


Kira slipped into a dark and rather seedy cantina, ordered a drink and sat down in a dark corner, where she appeared to be having a conversation with herself.

"I don't like this place." A laugh.

"You wouldn't," Kira answered. "You're a Jedi. This place means trouble."

"And you do like it?" Teri asked quietly. Kira shrugged.

"I don't have a reason not to... yet."

((Attention: Kira and Teri are the same person... well, at least they're in the same body... ))

Jon walked into the cantina and headed straight to the bar.

"Corellian ale." He called to the bartender, who proceeded to pour a drink and pass it to Jon. Jon looked around the cantina to make sure there was no one who would try to start a fight with an ex-jedi like he was. The only person he saw seemed to be a crazy women who was talking to herself. He took a bar stall and sat on it while he continued to drink.

Jezrinth fell to his knees laughing, popping out of a private room. "Whoo!" the man got back up to his feet and removed himself from the arms of several dancers. "Alright, ladies, that's enough. I think, I've had enough for the day." About a fourth of the Cantina patrons looked up at him. In a daze, he moved towards the bartender and took a seat. His good Trandoshan friend, and part-time bodyguard took a seat next to him. Lussk whispered some words into the bartender's ears and was given a nod. The barkeep went over and began opening up some cabinets until he found the ale of his search and poured a pair of glasses for the two.

"DAMN!"

Kablo threw down his pazaak cards, his face flustered. His opponent, a greasy Twi'lek, laughed and reaped the shattered remains of Kablo's yearly income. Tucking the money away into the folds of his suit, the Twi'lek arose from the table.

"Better luck next time, friend"

he said in huttese. Then he strode away, eyeing one of the dancing girls nearby. Kablo watched him go, growling death threats under his breath as he slumped in his chair, alone and dead broke. He needed a holiday from this pit. Where would he go, though? The only other work (*ahem* appealing work) on the planet was bounty hunting or mercenary work. Kablo laughed to himself. "Yeah, right". He was no fighter. In fact, the only reason he had came to this damnable planet in the first place was a favor he owed to his brother, on Coruscant. He drained his glass and put his head on the table, attempting to sleep.

Her master had some obsession she swore. Another cantina. Never mind that public places where fools got absolutely sotted off their stools were excellent places to gather information, but still, she wanted to kill. Not baby-sit some drunk sobbing into his dirty glass of Gods only knew what as she probed for sensitive information he knew he shouldn't be giving up . . . but she was being so nice . . . it really wouldn't hurt. Not that he was saying anything important. Bah. Why couldn't he send acolytes for this junk?
But no. Her eyes scanned the area from her spot in the corner. He had said that she would receive help on this one. Or aid of somesort. At least, thats what she hoped he said. He had been somewhat occupied when giving her her instructions. She supposed that with the "great" work she had performed on the last mission, he was only too happy to give her another. Mental note: fail this mission, she thought wryly, smirking as her eyes focused in on a table. A lone person sat there . . . She was talking to herself. Great. Out of all the Sith in the Galaxy her Master could have work with her, he had to give her the one with Multiple Personality Disorder.

Sidling over, gliding calmly through the cantina to the table, her aura more than enough to give her clear space to walk through and the peering eyes downcast, she grabbed a chair and sat down. At least it was another dark corner. Perhaps that's why she didn't spot her fellow Sith immediately.

"Kira." She studied the person across from her. "What a . . . surprise, seeing you here."

Kira looked up, startled. "Nalaen!" she exclaimed. "This is a surprise. I hadn't expected to see you... he just said another Sith..." She laughed softly, but her laughter died away quickly. "I haven't seen you in a while... the Dark Lord has been sending us out separately recently. What have you been up to?"

Nalaen shrugged with a genuine smile as she lifted her hand, her sleeve falling down her arm. Flicking her scarred hand at a waitress, she ordered a drink, then covered her hand back up.
"Well," she started slowly, "The Dark Lord's had a lot of things to take care of. He needs his best people taking care of things. Which is why everyone's been going off on his bidding." She paused in disturbed thought; at the same moment, her drink was quickly placed before her. She always got amazing service. Rubbing her hand slightly, she started frowning. "If we're constantly doing things for The Dark Lord . . . then how difficult and dangerous is this work? I mean, if he's sent us both to do it?" She flexed her hands a couple times in slight worry, wincing a bit. He said she -- they -- would know what to do when they got there. She still didn't know what he was looking for. Or what she and Kira were expected to do. Ah well. If they couldn't trust in The Dark Lord of the Sith, who could they trust? If he said that they would know what to do, then damn it, they would know.
Giving Kira a slight curving of her lips, she lifted her glass and downed the contents, thrashing her head about as she set the cup back down. Gasping, she managed, "Holy crap that's strong," even as she waved for another. Spending a few minutes in thought, then when her drink came, swirling it as she thought, she eventually spoke. "As for what I've been up to . . . well, I did a mission like this -- the last one he sent me out on." Her face darkened slightly. "When I got back and gave him what he wanted, there were . . . things I had to take care of." That meant an assassination. Without a word, he had just handed her a datapad with information on it and a name. And she had gone out and killed the mark. It was her job. Not that she felt bad about it, she quite enjoyed being such a trusted, loyal assassin. However, he hadn't gone down without a fight, surprising even her. And she had paid for it. Not that it was a bad injury or anything, just slightly . . . disfiguring. At least her hand still functioned. But that was the danger of extremities. They had a habit of being removed. This time she had been lucky. Scars and burned flesh.
Downing her second drink, she eyed Kira. "So what have you been up to?"

"Investigating tombs of former Sith Lords on various planets," Kira answered with a smile. "Preventing weak Jedi from destroying the tombs and..." she chuckled slightly, "driving my Jedi half partially insane... you remember Teri Korr, don't you?"

A slight change in eye color. "Hello," Teri said cheerfully. The eye color changed again and Kira laughed.

"As you can see, she's much more cooperative this time than she was last time we met," she said. The change happened again.

"Ah, what can I say?" Teri said. "Kira certainly treats me kindly... even if she tries to drive me to insanity." Imagine a person trying to glare at herself and you'll have pictured the look on Kira/Teri's face.

"I think she's already a little insane," Kira said with a grin. "After all, she lives in the same body as a Sith... that's bound to drive any Jedi nuts!"

"And in fights, it helps to have the experiences of both of us," Teri added helpfully.

"After all," Kira agreed, "Teri remembers part of our past I fear I will never regain."


Another young woman entered the cantina. Her black hair reached down just past her chin and she had silvery-blue eyes. She seemed rather flustered, but she glanced around, took note of Kira and Nalaen, and moved swiftly over to the opposite corner.

((Blessed Sith, this is Nadira... Nalaen would remember her.))

Kablo was muttering to himself as he brooded at his table. A waiter approached him, but turned away with a dissapointed face when he saw Kablo's empty pockets. Kablo sneered, and drained the backwash from his glass. Grimacing, he turned to the bar to see if any new pazaak players had washed up. He wilted. None had.

Scanning the room, he noticed some new arrivals. There were two very attractive women conversing at a table nearby...not card players, though. No...no, certainly not. Kablo continued to search. He noted that his twi'lek friend was now considerably drunk. He made a mental note to extract his credits from the alien on a later date. Kablo's eyes flicked to the door, which had just opened and ushered another woman into the festering cantina. Kablo was mildly surprised. Few cantinas of this sort got many women. Not that he was complaining; women were nothing but trouble to him. And, as it happened, she looked nothing like the card playing sort. Go figure. Kablo sighed, and choked on his syliva. Wheezing, he settled back into his chair, intent on a short nap before exacting his revenge on his previous card opponent. With any luck, he could win back enough money for another drink. The Telosian wine was particularly delicious…

A young man of about 20 entered the cantina. He had a strong aura in the force and went straight to the bar.

Man: Ruby Blies, please.
Bartender *smirking*: Get outta here kid, this is no place for you.

The man looked into the bartender's eyes
Bartender: All right, but I warned ya

The bartender served him his drink. The man took a long sip and put it back down, he looked around the cantina, his gaze lingered on Kira and Naleen's table, then Nadira's. After that he turned back to his drink.

Jezrinth spun in his stool and scanned the immediate area. He stopped, staring at two ladies off in the corner. Hmm, two of 'em, but they look feisty, might get hurt. Spinning about once more he stopped in a sudden and hopped off, staring at a lonely-looking girl off in the corner. I wonder... "Hey Lussk?"

"Aye?"

"I'm going to head off to that table over there," he pointed over at the girl. "You can... do whatever you want."

"Eh, I'm kinda bored, you still have my cards in your bag don't you?" The trandoshan caught a small box, filled with his pazaak cards, and searched the area for some willing players, while his human friend headed towards Nadira. After about five minutes, he found a Twi'lek, who was laughing and chattering about his prize scraps. Pushing away some other patrons, Lussk put open an immediate challenge, and put down two thousand credits. The stoned Twi'lek just laughed, but was cut short when he saw Lussk put down three more. With a grin, the two played. As Lussk drew his cards, he grinned inwardly, and with the drunken form of his opponent, he won quite quickly, and took a few extra thousand credits, by a simple matter of tricking the fool. He then rose and began seeking more players.

Meanwhile, Jezrinth sat down next to Nadira. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't notice. Ehm, is this seat taken?"

The young man sat down at the same table where Lussk was playing and took out his own deck.
"So are you as good as you think you are?"

Lussk chuckled, "Well, that depends on how good I think I am. Let me finish up this game, and meet me over at the eigth Pazaak table." Dropping another good 500 credits in his pocket, he dropped himself into the seat across from the man, and set up his sidedeck. "Shall we?"

Kablo had dozed off. He awoke, with a start, and looked around. The twi'lek was gone. He cursed under his breath. Just his luck...

He spied a man and a trandoshan playing beginning a game of pazaak nearby. Kablo fought the urge to shout with joy. Pazaak players! Maybe not as drunk as his first target...but then again, things could change. Kablo smiled, but it quickly faded when he realized he had no money to buy drinks for his opponent. So much for getting them drunk. Kablo sighed and wistfully watched the barkeep fondle a nearby wench. Maybe he could steal some credits from some drunkard. "Yeah, right."

The man grinned and spoke while setting up his own decks.
"We shall. How far you willing to go?"

The whole Jedi-switching thing was creeping her out a bit. She really did not like Jedi, and to see one occupying the body of a fellow Sith was bad enough, let alone a Sith she actually got along with. Though Nalaen would never go as far as saying she and Kira were friends, she was about as close to friendship Nalaen would ever get. It wasn't safe for Sith to have friends. Still, Kira was lighthearted about it, though she could feel anger tugging deep within her aura.

"As long as you aren't making the invasion comfortable," Nalaen replied with a smirk, considering a third drink. But she didn't want to get drunk, or even tipsy, when there was work to be done. Sighing, she lifted her head up and the Cantina door opened. A woman, a familiar woman, strode through the threshold into the darkness. Her narrowed eyes followed the figure; then she turned her head to look around as she kept her senses on the woman, wondering what she was doing there, and where she knew her from. There were so many people in the Galaxy she had dealt with, killed or threatened. Sometimes the faces ran together. Still . . . something nagged her in the back of her mind.

There were people looking their way. Males, she could smell them. They were scoping out the little gathering of two, probably shocked that a female, let alone two -- now three -- would dare enter. They seemed a dingy sort, probably drunkards, gamblers and the like. Easy prey, and not worth her time. Unless she needed to prod them for information. It was some strange working of the Universe. All the worst people in the worst places knew the best things.

Leaning over the table, Nalaen murmured lowly, "So, do you have any idea what we're doing here?" Then she nodded towards the other woman sitting in the opposite corner. "Or who she is?"

"One thousand credits seem good enough?"

"Sure."

Stuff happens, Lussk finally loses at Pazaak. "Ah, oh well." He reached into his pocket and handed the thousand credits to his opponent.

"Yeah, well, I noticed that your hand was pretty bad. Anyways, good match?"

"Aye."

"But still, you certainly don't act like most other players, who would go insane if they lost a thousand credits."

"Yeah well, I've won plenty from my games today, and whether or not one would consider it, my master, and good friend, is a very rich man." He grinned and peered at the corner, seeing Jez attempt to put the "moves" on the girl. With a chuckle, he stood up, stretched, and poured himself another glass.

Nadira's cool blue eyes lifted briefly to glance at the man that had sat down next to her and she shook her head, indicating without words that the seat was not taken.


Meanwhile, across the room Kira glanced in Nadira's direction and shrugged. "I'm afraid I can't answer either question." She took a closer look at Nadira and this time they made eye contact. It was held for several seconds before Kira broke it off.

"She must be royalty..." she muttered. "They're the only ones I know who've been able to stare me down."

Jezrinth sighed. Not exactly the talkative type, and I'm not in the mood to start up much of a conversation. Eh, now? What's this? He watched some beautiful ladies walk about, and he stood up. "Well, pleasure to meet you. Mayhaps we'll meet each other again." All she did was nod, and Jezrinth went over to the group of what, maybe five or six? "Hello, ladies."

Kablo slid out his chair and crept up to the nearest drunk.

"Excuse me, sir. Care for a game of pazaak?"

The drunk groggily righted himself and began messily setting up his side deck. He was wearing a very large coat that appeared almost to move in. Kablo squinted. Must be my imagination, he though.

"Alright, your move!" Kablo said with vim. His luck was about to change...

The drunk passed out, his head flopping onto the table sending the cards askew. Kablo sighed. At least I can search him for anything valuable. He reached into the drunkard’s coat...

"OUCH!"

A gizka squirmed out of a pocket and hopped away, leaving Kablo nursing a bitten hand. Disgusted, he gathered his cards and slid off back to his table. Chancing a glance back at the other two players he had seen, he noted that their match appeared to be over. Good. Now I can gamble back what I... Kablo was shocked when he realized that he had nothing to bet. He cursed under his breath. Getting up, he crept off into the darkness of the cantina, searching for the bum's gizka. It was better than nothing...

The young man sat back down at the bar and ordered another drink. He then pocketed the winning money.

Nadira glanced at the man again when he stood and left the table and allowed herself a small grin. Silence has a desirable effect when you don't want to talk to somebody.


"You seemed to recognize her," Kira told Nalaen. "Am I mistaken?"

Her face became a mask as her eyes scanned the room. She nodded slowly, a disgruntled look flashing over her features. If Kira could tell that she knew this person when she herself wasn't sure, then her senses had to be right: this definately was someone she knew. However, she didn't know from where. But seeing her in a cantina was . . . yet again familiar. Strange. Where had it been?

"I know her from somewhere, but where from? How do I know her?" A frown descended on her lips and her eyes continued to pierce through the other patrons, trying to think. There certainly were a lot of pazaak players; she had only ever played for recreation and practice. It was a good way for young students and acolytes to learn how to not betray their feelings or senses. By the time everyone got really good, it was like playing a card game with a group of permacrete walls. The Masters had been unsure about that method of study at the beginning, as it was played as a game in the youths' off-time. However, they had seen results from their stringent attempts to avoid giving away their hands and to block out all distraction. So they had allowed it to continue.

"Perhaps," Nalaen said slowly, trying to shove the unease the familiar yet strange female was giving her, "I should play a couple games of pazaak. Maybe I can figure out what's going on around here. Because I can taste it on the air. Something strange is happening."

The young man finished his drink and sighed. Time to get to business. He stood up walked over to the two womens' table and took out his deck.
"Any of you interested in a game of pazaak?"

Kablo scurried through the tables. For a gizka, it could hop very fast indeed! At least it was relatively small. Finally, he snatched it off the floor. Holding it at arms length, he made a mental note never to include this incident in his memoirs. Shoving the squirming gizka into his coat, he made for the nearest table and quickly sat down. Looking around, he noted that the one of the pazaak players from before was now talking to the two woman sitting at the other table. Kablo sighed. Women, again. What luck.

The gizka bit him in the side, and he winced.

Nalaen put on a sweet, endearing smile as she lowered the cowl of her cloak, exposing a relatively pretty face, covered in ritual tattoos and minor scarification. Her eyes shone almost invitingly as she slowly shrugged the black robe off; one shoulder, then the next, it slipping leisurely onto the back of her chair.

"I'd love a game," she said with a sigh, reaching into her robe and pulling out a worn deck that she had been collecting since she was a kid. This would be interested. Hell, even if he didn't have any information to spill over a nice game of pazaak, she could still get her mind off the woman in the corner . . . Her eyes went to Kira's and back to the man beside her so quickly that only one sensative to the Force would have ever been able to tell there was movement. She wanted to know what Kira thought. On the pretense of setting her cards casually on the table, she reached out with a tendril of the Force, searching him. But even before she probed him, she knew something with him was up. Why would one come to such a dingy cantina to play pazaak and win credits? No one here would have enough to make it worth his while to do professionally. Interesting.

So what was he here for? Or was she just over-intellectualising? Perhaps he was completely innocent and really was just here for a drink, fondle and game of cards. Nothing wrong with that. Still, she was a trained Sith; moreso, a trained Sith assassin and it didn't do one well to assume that people weren't a threat. Especially when she was on a mission.

"Let's play."

"All right." The man felt her probing her, but only blocked off essential areas and subtly lead her elsewhere.
He set up his deck slowly, as if though he was a newbie to the game, waiting to see how she would react.

Lussk leaned onto a counter as Jezrinth hopped up next to him. "I'm guessing that means your 'moves' were successful?" the Trandoshan queried, pointing at a red mark on his friend's neck.

"Oh no, she was a bit boring, ya know? Not very talkative. Found a group of other ladies who were much more talkative," Jezrinth grinned, as Lussk chuckled. "So, how were your games?"

"Oh, they were fine, earned about ten thou total. Last game I played I lost. Good player, he was." Jez nodded.

"So, what're you doin' now?"

"I *was* watching some holo-coliseum games, until you interrupted me."

"Ah! Really now? Who did Bragga set up for this one?" Jezrinth said, peeking over at a screen.

"An old Jedi Master, one of those real short fellas. Up against a huge group of mercs and stuff, the Jedi is just destroying the mercs."

"Not that surprising."

Kira smiled slightly and shifted slightly to get a better look at the game unfolding in front of her.

__________________________________


Meanwhile, across the cantina, Nadira finally began to glance around the room. Her eyes first settled on Kira, who returned the stare until she felt she couldn't. Nadira smiled slightly when the other woman dropped the stare. Then, she looked at the others in the cantina. Finally, her gaze fell on Nalaen and her smile faded.

"I've met you before," she whispered to herself. Flashes of things began to resurface in her memory.

The Cantina, the perfectly dreadful few hours spent there. The start was the worst. Nadira and the others there had been trapped in a dirty cantina on Tatooine because of a perfectly dreadful sandstorm. To add to an already bad day, Nadira had asked for water and had recieved Force knows what. It had been terribly bitter and she'd demanded the mistake be corrected.

"Adar," Nadira whispered. She'd once called him a brother, but he had betrayed her and her parents. Thanks to being trapped in that cantina, she'd confronted and killed him. A small gasp. That was it! This other woman had been in the cantina and had also wanted Adar dead! That left Nadira to wonder who Nalaen's companion was.

Kablo, now desperate, looked across to a dark corner. A woman sat alone at a table. She was staring over at another table, occupied by...pazaak? Were they playing a game? Kablo squinted. They were! Did this lone woman wish to engage in a game? Kablo grimaced. Fate was conspiring against him. But, alas, his aversion to women was less so than his aversion to being arrested for not paying docking fees. He got up from his table and approached the woman's table.

Kablo had little charm about him. He stared into the womans eyes. They were very pretty eyes... "I'm sorry to bother you, but I couldn't help but notice you seem interested in a game of pazaak."

At first, Nadira did not answer. But when she did, her voice was almost inaudible.

"Am I interested in the game?" she asked quietly. "Or the players and the audience?"

Kablo raised his eyebrow. A crazy. Just what he needed.

He sat down.

"Those people over there. They were playing pazaak. Actually, there have been several games going on, from what I've seen. You seemed interested. I can only assume you too wish to play. I'm offering you a game. Are you interested?"

Of course, Kablo thought to himself, when she finds out that I have nothing of value to bet, any potential interest will fade. He sighed. He could always bet his ship...

A hint of a smile fell on Nadira's lips. "I do not gamble." She looked back to the table that held the other two women and their gambling friend. "However, I do thank you for your kind offer."

He fumbled with the cards in his hands. She gazed idly around his face and the area behind him. But peripherally, she followed his fingers. She noticed something slightly odd, but she couldn't quite nail it down. Though he acted like a rookie player, his fingers touched the cards with professional familiarity. Was he trying to play mind games with her? How delightful. She did love mind games. Smiling almost blushingly at him, she gained her composure and nervously set out her cards. Two could play at that game, though she suspected the rattling of her nerves would aid her deception. Not that it really mattered to her. Whether he was professonal or not, she could bet any amount of credits and lose them all; all that really mattered was trying to grill him. For something. She didn't know what yet.

She felt something strange. As she continued to search him with the Force, it was almost like gentle breezes were pressing on her will, making her want to redirect her search. She wouldn't allow her brow to furrow, lest she give herself away, so slowly, calmly, she withdrew the tendrils, not quite understanding. Could he have sensed her? Could he be Force sensitive: or even a practitioner? It didn't matter right now. Instead, she let the Force rest around him, sensing the aura he was giving off, as all creatures did. As she let those tendrils rest like lazy arms, she concealed herself in the Force, to block everyone else out. If there were Force users about, she didn't want a sign above her flashing "I'm a Sith!". This would do for now.

The game commensed. Nalaen looked blankly at the cards on the table; then she looked to the four in her hand. Her expression didn't change. If this spawned something and she made it out of here, she could inform the Masters that allowing pazaak really had been in the Siths best interest. Who knew? Sensing Kira staring at her, she turned her head slightly and smiled, the first betrayal of emotions. Calculated of course. What could her opponent get from her acknowledging the person she was with? Nothing. And it made her look normal and slightly nervous, needing to look to someone else for comfort. So it could do her some good.

It took a moment, but the sense finally creeped in. The woman was looking at her. And she felt familiarity, not just from herself, but on HER part. So, she was recognised, and it felt like the woman was wary. But not enraged or unsure. Well, that was interesting. Most people who had ever met her were lucky to hate her later. So who was this person who didn't loathe her but knew her? The woman didn't feel like a Sith . . . but still. There was something about her.
Damn it. Her wandering mind made her lose that hand. Not a muscle twitched on her face, not really caring about the credits on this game. There was still two more hands to go anyhow.

Kablo held back a sob. A mocking voice in his head sang out. Ha, no pazaak for you.

"I see. Why don't you gamble? Did you have a bad or experience," He tried to sound conversational, but his disappointment showed in his voice, "or are you just cautious?"

Nadira stared at the man sitting across from her. Could he possibly be near tears simply because she refused to gamble with him? Her conclusion was that he was desperate.

"I do not gamble because there are far better ways to gain credits," she answered patiently. "Whenever you gamble, you'll eventually loose. In light of this fact, I conclude that it is better to simply avoid the sport altogether."

The man looked up after winning the hand, and grinned.
"Well, I've NEVER won two hands in a row, let's see how my luck goes."
The man arranged his deck again, this time his hands worked only a little bit faster.

Kablo was lost for words. While he wanted to be annoyed, the woman's logic was flawless. At long last, he sighed, and shrugged.

"Do you have any better ideas, opposed to gambling?" Kablo said, resigned. "I'm open to suggestions if you know of lucrative alternatives to pazaak."

"How much money do you need?" Nadira asked, staring directly into his eyes.

What? Kablo tried to avoid the eyes, looking down at his hands instead. This woman was not like one he had met before.

"I...just enough to pay the docking fees. I'm not staying on this planet for long." His voice trembled slightly, and he cleared his throat.

"The two women over there," Nadira said, nodding toward Nalaen and Kira. "I know you noticed them. Approach the one who's playing pazaak with the man at the table and tell her what I'm about to tell her this: Adar's killer greets the Sith warrior who hunted him."

"If you tell her this," Nadira went on, "I will give you the money you need."

The game was close this time, at least as close as the man could make it and still lose. He wondered exactly who the woman was and what she was doing here, and watched closely for any reaction.

Kablo listened with amazement. All he needed to do was go over and relay a message? It was unreal. There was more to this than he was getting. He sighed. Nothing but trouble.

"What an amazingly generous offer." He looked up at the woman and leaned closer in. "What's the catch?"

Nadira grinned slightly. "A catch? Well, I hadn't thought of one... if you want one, I'll oblige." She glanced at Nalaen. "After hearing this, there's really no telling what she'll do. I do believe, however that you won't be killed. You'll live to collect the money."

Kablo laughed, dryly. What wonderful incentive.

"Fine," he said, meeting her stare. "I've been bored as hell anyway."

He got up slowly, stretching out his muscles. Then he sighed, and sauntered his way across the cantina up to the woman's table. Like his tablemate said, she appeared to be playing pazaak with a young man. It was a good match, and for a moment Kablo found himself caught up in it. He couldn't help himself, it was second nature too him. Then, reminding himself that he had more important things do, he fortified himself, and lightly tapped the woman on the shoulder.


"Excuse me. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your game: I have a message for you."

The young man looked up at the new arrival, curious to see what the message was.

Jezrinth sighed and handed a hundred credits to a Rodian. "Well, I'm kinda tired. Wanna head out?"

"Sure."

After waving good-bye to their friends, the two left the Cantina, heading for the docks, and hopping onto their Corellian Freighter, the Vermillion Eagle.

((Well, I don't really want to do anything in the cantina anymore, so, I'm off :O))

Nalaen had actually won that hand. Nice. She allowed a look of glee to flash in her eyes. To show no reaction would be too telling of her practice. They set out their cards once again; to her, these games of absolute random chance were intellectually interesting. All her life, she knew that the Force influenced everything. From the way the wind blew, to how rocks formed, the Force was thriving. A simple twist of her mind and she could change the workings of the Force, change how things ended up. Manipulate situations, minds, events. But these cards: they had no natural life. There was no Force connection. And though she could probably increase her odds with strenuous application of the Force, it still amazed her that in this galaxy where coincidences were actually the workings of the Force, these cards were truly random. A few won games in a row was really the only true coincidence that could exist. Because then the cards could turn, and there was nothing one could do about it. The Force had no power here. The only power was in the mind behind the cards. But that wasn't the point of this game. It didn't matter if she won, so there was no point in cheating.

There was a presence near her. She couldn't see it, but she could feel it, watching . . . not so much herself, but the game. Another pazaak player? What else would someone willingly come into this place for? That, booze or cheap women. Her eyes flitted around. Very cheap. Returning blank eyes, and an equally blank face to the game, she studied the cards laid out before her. Yuck. This would take a lot of luck for her to win. Even thinking the word luck made her wince; luckly she was able to keep it mentally. Luck wasn't a word Sith used. It wasn't a word any Force user should use. But here she was, at the whim of fate: a card too high or too low could sink her. And still it fascinated her. Looking at the two cards left in her hand, she recited the numbers in her head over and over as a focusing tool. What to do, what to do?

But there was nothing to be done. The one hovering tapped her shoulder. Her muscles stiffened slightly, her mind flying immediately to the hilt of her double-bladed red sabre at her hip. Caressing it with the Force, she felt better just knowing it was there. After all, if this was an attack, she certainly wouldn't be given polite forewarning. Looking up at him, her eyes flashed.

He looked kind of nervous. Unsure. She gave him a slight snarl, eyes narrowing. What did he want?
"Excuse me. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt your game: I have a message for you."

Her brows flew up. "Oh? A message for me?" Thoughts raced through her head. A messenger? About what? Someone she was supposed to kill who found out and outwitted her? A message from her Master demanding her immediate death -- no, that was a bit extreme. Her immediate presence, which may as well be her immediate death. To tell her something she should have known but didn't? A replacement for her on her mission?

Slowing her thoughts, she blocked the discomfort out. "Well . . . what is it?"

The young man winced as he saw he lost.
"Damn. Final hand?"

Kira frowned as the messenger approached. What message could Nalaen possibly need in a place like this? Her eyes fell suddenly, suspiciously on Nadira. Could it be that this strange woman had recognized Nalaen? Kira cautiously reached out with the Force, trying to read Nadira's mind...

Nadira sensed the intrusion immediately and blocked it, staring at Kira as she did so. Her face told Kira, Don't even think about it...

Kira winced as her probing was rejected, but said nothing. Teri's voice whispered in her mind. She's been trained by Jedi... Kira responded with a low growl, but still said nothing.