The party emerge from the apartment complex a few minutes later, bloodied, scorched and dishevelled as they make their way through the streets. Bane leads the way, followed by the unfortunate duros, who is shoved roughly by Zirak and Ak-Yev who stride behind him. Sora limps along in the rear. They draw more than a few glances and murmurs, though one look from Zirak is enough to send most onlookers on their way.

Zirak glances about the many alleyways and skywalks about them, frowning.

"I hope you know where we are going, Bane."

Bane glances back.

"Trust me, I know Nar Shaddaa like the back of my-" he breaks off as they turn the corner of the alleyway along which they are walking to find themselves at a dead end.

"Yes?" Zirak prompts unhelpfully.

Bane ignores Zirak as he turns back down the corridor once more.

"I know the way," the duros winces as he is spun about by Ak-Yev.

"So do I," Bane replies, unimpressed, "It's hardly my fault if someone decides to build a wall in the middle of a perfectly good alleyway."

"You're sure you know the way, Bane?" Sora frowns at the dead end before turning to follow Bane, "We're running out of time."

"You're welcome to try getting an air-taxi to give us a ride," he says unhelpfully as they exit the alleyway once more, "But good luck finding someone stupid enough to pick us up in our current condition."

Zirak seems to feel this is worth a try.

"You!" he calls, hailing a passing taxi, "Stop. Bane will tell you where we need to go."

The gran pilot brings the speeder in closer, but then notices the attire of the party, including Ak-Yev and Sora's bloodied clothes, and the duros being dragged by the collar. He hastily angles his vehicle upwards once more and disappears into the air traffic.

"Told you," Bane says grimly as the taxi departs.

Zirak ignores him, continuing to wave to several more taxis which also make no effort to stop.

"Well, it seems that on foot might be the way to go after-" Bane begins, when an air-taxi finally descends to hover beside them.

Zirak hastily steps into the taxi before the pilot has time to reconsider his foolishness.

The pilot, a blue skinned twi'lek male dressed in a navy blue uniform, is busy arguing on his comm system in Ryl and does not appear to notice.

"-and for the last time we are not buying any jogan fruit! Do you have any idea how expensive those things are?!"

"Oh, so now you're worried about spending money?" a female voice responds angrily in Ryl.

"You are impossible!" the twi'lek complains, "Listen, I'm with a customer now, so we'll discuss this later!"

"All right," the female replies sullenly, "But I swear by Kikalekki if you don’t bring back some jogan fruit tonight I'll-"

The comm clicks off as the twi'lek spins about, his expression morphing from sullen irritation to an obsequious smile in the blink of an eye.

"So, where can I take you fine beings today?"

His smile falters as he actually sees his 'fine beings' for the first time, but he swiftly pulls the smile back into place, looking at Zirak who he takes to be the leader of the party.

"The Blue Nova cantina," Bane offers smoothly as he slides easily into the passenger seat. Behind him the duros is shoved up against Zirak by Ak-Yev, who then clambers in and is followed finally by Sora, who has to bend himself into a very awkward angle, half hunched across the duros in order to squeeze the door closed behind him.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:06, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

The twi'lek stares in bewilderment at the passengers cramped into the rear of his vehicle before once more recovering himself.

"Er, right. The Blue Nova," he repeats, too disconcerted to do anything as sensible as ask for payment up front.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:52, Mon 02 Sept 2019.

"Get us there within five minutes and we'll pay you fifty percent more than the fare we were planning to pay you," Bane says as they take off, glancing at Zirak knowingly.

The twi'lek glances back at him with a calculating glance. He then nods, and swerves the air taxi to the left with a burst of acceleration. The duros gives a curse as Zirak lurches sideways and is thrown on top of him.

The taxi swerves to the right to narrowly avoid colliding with a skybus.

"Are you sure this was-" Sora breaks off as he is thrown against the side of the taxi and pinned by Ak-Yev's bulky frame, "necessary?" he finishes weakly.

"Hey, she's you're friend," Bane replies comfortably from the passenger's seat in the front of the vehicle, though he flinches slightly as they pass a swoop flying the opposite way with decimeters to spare.

"Nice work," he compliments the twi'lek, trying to sound relaxed.

Zirak, half buried under the duros, mutters something a lot less complimentary in Kalzerian and Bane doesn't need telepathy to sense the thoughts going through Zirak's mind.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 00:10, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

They have almost reached the Blue Nebula when the twi'lek's luck runs out. They turn sharply out of a skytunnel to find themselves flying towards a well dressed dug in a gleaming Xizorian X-33 airspeeder. The dug gives a cry of surprise as the twi'lek spins the air taxi in an attempt to avoid a collision. Their ears are met by the unwelcome sound of shattering glass and grating metal as the taxi's underside crushes the luxury airspeeder's left headlight as well as grazing its side. The dug bellows a series of Huttese curses, jamming on his brakes to spin the airspeeder in pursuit, and only narrowly avoiding being rear-ended by a Kuat Drive Yards K-2000 airspeeder.

The twi'lek gives a series of curses in his own language, slowing the taxi as he glances back in dismay.

"Go, just go!" Bane says hastily as the dug, who appears to have withdrawn a hold out blaster from his dashboard, speeds towards them.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

One look at the blaster in the dug's foot is enough to convince the twi'lek of the merits of Bane's instructions. With a sharp jolt he accelerates off once more.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

"There's the Blue Nebula!" Bane has pointed hastily, "If you'll just drop us off here..."

"Yes, drop us and keep going," Zirak agrees, "Good luck staying alive."

"We should sort out the issue with that other pilot," Sora frowns, managing to pull himself up and glance out of the rear viewport.

"Because he's clearly in the mood for a reasonable discussion," Bane replies dryly as two blasts whiz pass the windshield.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:28, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

The twi’lek seems to have regained some semblance of his composure, darting swiftly to the left to circle around a towering cloudcutter.

"Believe me," he informs them with a grimace has he hooks sharply to the right to avoid crashing into a cargo transport as it lumbers by, "This kind of thing happens more often than you might think."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:31, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

"Just another day on Nar Shaddaa, eh?" Bane replies as another stray blast strikes the cargo transport's hull to their left.

"Um, you know the Blue Nebula was back that way, right?"

"Yes, yes," the twi’lek says dismissively as he glances in his rear view camera, "We've still got forty three seconds."

"True," Bane allows as they dart into another skytunnel, rapidly overtaking the speeders around them.

They shoot out of the tunnel a few seconds later, and loop back toward the cantina. There is no sign of the angry dug. The twi’lek flies along at the same reckless speed before touching down with a final jolt that sends both Sora and Zirak crashing into the seats in front of them.

Bane glances at the chrono display, panting slightly.

"Four minutes and forty seven seconds. Not bad," he nods as he alights hastily from the vehicle.

"Uh, Sora will sort you out," he adds over his shoulder.

The twi'lek glances expectantly at Sora's disheveled form.

"That's thirty two credits," he says smoothly, extending a hand, "Plus sixteen for the bonus makes fifty eight."

OOC: Klin Ferath rolled 9 using 1d20+7. Bluff.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:37, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

Sora frowns, still picking himself up off the floor of the vehicle.

"You mean forty eight?" he clarifies in confusion.

OOC: Sora Bulq rolled 10 using 1d20+1. Knowledge (mathematics).

The twi'lek doesn't seem to have counted on a weequay being any good at mathematics.

"Er, right you are. Forty eight credits it is."

"I think a deduction is in order for your abysmal piloting skills," Zirak sneers ungratefully. "You're lucky he's paying you at all."

Sora gives Zirak a reproving frown as he hands over the credits to twi'lek.

"We should hurry and find Sella," he says to the others as he jogs toward the cantina entrance.

"Also, it looks as if your friend has spotted you," Bane adds, gesturing at the stream of traffic above them from which a dented X-33 is rapidly descending.

The twi'lek has given a curse in Ryl and shot off into the sky once more, the dug in hot pursuit.

"You've got to love Nar Shaddaa," Bane chuckles, shaking his head as they enter the cantina.

The looks Bane receives from his companions suggest that they do not feel any such obligation.

The Blue Nova seems to fit the description of a club better than that of a cantina. The pounding music about them is almost deafening and strobe lights flash and flicker across the floor. Hundreds of beings mill and dance about them, while in the corners several patrons lie unconscious, whether from alcohol or stronger sedatives they do not know.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:49, Tue 03 Sept 2019.

"All right, duros," Bane shouts in order to be audible over the music, "Where is this Kuzran of yours?"

The duros flinches from the volume of the music and the flashing of the lights. He still clutches the gash across his chest, and the taxi ride certainly hasn't done anything to improve his condition. He simply points in the direction of a small doorway, over by the rear of the building.

Sora nods, picking his way through the crowd toward the door indicated and apologising as an inebriated bith backs into him.

"If you're lying, I will put a flight suit on and hold your ear right next to that speaker over there," Zirak finds the worst threat he can think off. He realises a moment later that this might have been a more menacing promise if the duros, in the process of being dragged after Sora by Ak-Yev, could actually hear him.

The party are successful in negotiating their way through the dense crowd without incident. That is, until a particularly bulky zabrak backs into Zirak.

"Hey! Watch where you're goin'!" he growls, giving Zirak a rough shove.

"You watch where you're going!" Zirak retorts with a forceful shove of his own. A shove which Bane and Sora correctly guess is force assisted, as the muscled zabrak is lifted off his feet and sent flying backwards to crash over one of the large speakers to the left of the stage and into a crumpled heap. He does not rise.

OOC: Zirak Derasir used Force Strike on Blue Nova Patron.
Zirak Derasir dealt 7 points of wound damage to Blue Nova Patron.

"Always subtle, Zirak," Bane shouts dryly as he brushes past the Kalzerian and ducks under a spinning zeltron.

The remaining patrons have enough sense not to mess with Zirak, reluctantly making way as he strides through the crowd toward the door. The party open this to find themselves stepping out onto a balcony which overlooks a landing platform below, reached by a narrow stairwell to their left. Even as they watch, a sleek Kom’rk-class fighter lifts off from the platform and rises into the sky above.

Still remaining on the platform are seven duros. Their leader, the one from the hologram, is barking orders in Durese as they hurry over to a bunch of swoop bikes parked nearby. Two of the duros carry between them a large crate, which they begin to strap to the rear of one of the swoops.

Sora glances in dismay at the fighter which is by now just a speck in the traffic above.

"We are too late!" he groans.

"Too late?" Bane repeats, his gaze resting on the crate, "Looks like perfect timing to me."

"Indeed," Zirak greedily agrees with Bane.

"Need them alive at all, or can I kill them all?" this is also directed at the bounty hunter.

Bane shrugs.

"Do what you want, just don't damage that crate!"

Sora gives a shout and does a neat backflip off the balcony and onto the duracrete platform below as he charges toward the startled duros.

OOC: Sora Bulq rolled 22 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Zirak Derasir rolled 18 using 1d20+6. Initiative.
Vossier Gang Members rolled 17 using 1d20+3. Initiatives.
Kuzran Terrak rolled 11 using 1d20+3. Initiative.
Ak-Yev rolled 9 using 1d20+2. Initiative.
Bane Malar rolled 5 using 1d20+3. Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:24, Wed 04 Sept 2019.

Zirak, seemingly less fond of acrobatics than his weequay companion, has stepped forward confidently and stretched out his hands as darkness begins to gather about him. It is much fainter than it was in the apartment complex, however, and the tendrils which snake out from his hands are much more whispy.

Two of the duros below have gasped as the tendrils envelop them, causing them to drop the crate as they staggering to their knees. The darkness does not consume them, however, as they struggle to pick themselves up once more.

OOC: Zirak Derasir used Drain Life on Vossier Gang Members.
Zirak Derasir dealt 14 points of vitality damage to Vossier Gang Member.
Zirak Derasir dealt 9 points of damage to Vossier Gang Member.

Sora has by this point reached Kuzran, and slashed at the lieutenant with his lightsaber.

Kuzran has ignited a pair of boosters on his boots as Sora reaches him, rocketing safely out of range of the weequay's saber as he launches a series of blasts with his A280 blaster rifle. Each of these blasts are skilfully parried in return by Sora.

Ak-Yev crouches beside Zirak, firing at the attackers below with his blaster pistol. His blasts scorch the duracrete a few meters from the feet of the duros attackers, but none come close to striking their targets.

"Aim at the pair over by the crate," Bane directs Ak-Yev tersely as his own blasts whiz a few centimetres over the head of one of the pair partially drained by Zirak, who stoops a little lower as he continues to drag the crate towards his bike.

Zirak gives a snarl as the dark energy about him begins to fade, igniting his lightsaber as he leaps from the balcony after Sora. His fearsome charge is ruined somewhat by a jutting piece of cracked duracrete which catches his foot and sends him tumbling forward across the the ground, narrowly avoiding being impaled by his own saber. With a stream of curses in Kalzerian he rises, and once more begins to stalk towards the duros dragging the crate.

Sora continues to parry Kuzran's blasts as the duros rockets through the air to land a dozen meters away. He ducks and spins as two more of the duros by the swoops open fire on him, parrying back one of the blasts to send the shooter's blaster spinning from his hand.

OOC: Kuzran Terrak dealt 14 points of vitality damage to Sora Bulq.
Sora Bulq dealt 7 points of wound damage to Vossier Gang Member.

The remaining duros seem to feel that Zirak imposes a more menacing threat than Sora, and focus their fire on him. He savagely parries a number of their blasts, before one blast punches a hole through his cloak a centimetre from his knee. Another strikes his shoulder, bringing another savage curse from the amnesic Sith lord.

OOC: Vossier Gang Member dealt 12 points of vitality damage to Zirak Derasir.
Vossier Gang Member dealt 7 points of wound damage to Zirak Derasir.

Ak-Yev staggers down the narrow stairs and onto the platform, firing wildly at the duros who shot Zirak. The duros swiftly ducks behind his swoop bike as the blasts score their way along the durasteel frame.

Bane also begins to pick his way down the staircase, continuing to fire at the duros dragging the crate. He seems to be more worried about damaging the crate than killing the duros, however, and his blasts all fly past at a safe distance from either.

Still panting from the wound on his shoulder, Zirak gives another snarl before stretching out a hand full of dark energy. This time it does not fade, but pours forth to engulf the duros shooting at him, who gives a cry before collapsing lifelessly to the ground. Zirak, smiles menacingly, before turning to the duros by the crate.

OOC: Zirak Derasir used Drain Life on Vossier Gang Member.
Zirak Derasir healed 7 points of wound damage.
Zirak Derasir healed 12 points of vitality damage.

Zirak's smile fades a moment later as one of the duros steps out from behind the swoop bikes, a HY-6 blaster cannon nestled against his shoulder. With a deafening crack he fires directly at Zirak, who is lifted into the air and thrown halfway across the platform by the blast.

OOC: Vossier Gang Member dealt 22 points of wound damage to Zirak Derasir.

"Zirak!" shouts Sora in alarm as he glances at his companions crumpled form. He gives a cry a moment later as Kurzan takes the opportunity of his distraction to blast him in the shoulder, and chest. With a cry his lightsaber deactivates and he collapses to the ground.

OOC: Kuzran Terrak dealt 17 points of wound damage to Sora Bulq.

"Emissary!" Ak-Yev shouts, backing towards Zirak while still firing at the duros before him. He gives a snarl as a blast strikes him in the leg, then a gasp as one strikes him in the side, collapsing back into the duracrete as he looses consciousness.

OOC: Vossier Gang Member dealt 12 points of wound damage to Ak-Yev.

Bane, halfway across the platform, curses as he hastily begins to back up towards the staircase behind him, pulling out his comm as he retreats.

"R5? Where are you, you useless piece of trash? We need a pick up! Now!"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:05, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

It is the duros' turn to curse a moment later as Zirak's smoking form begins to rises as he heaves himself up, dark energy blasting out to consume the nearest duros, who collapses limply before he can so much as gasp.

OOC: Zirak Derasir used Drain Life on Vossier Gang Member.
Zirak Derasir healed 12 points of wound damage.

Bane has paused in his retreat to glance at Zirak with as much surprise as any.

"Whatever that purple-black energy stuff is, it seems to be working for you," he observes as he slides to avoid a stray blast from one of Kurzan's mercenaries.

Zirak ignores him, parrying a blast before narrowly dodging another blast from the blaster cannon. He staggers to one knee, before pushing himself up to parry two more blasts.

A large shadow passes over the platform at that moment. The duros curse in Durese and scramble for cover as 'Malar's Fist' swoops low over the platform, entry ramp lowered.

A series of beeps and boops sound from Bane's comlink.

"I'd hardly call that perfect timing," Bane retorts tersely as he darts forward to scramble onto the boarding ramp.

Still parrying blasts, Zirak limps over to the boarding ramp. He pauses to glance between the crate of credits, and Sora and Ak-Yev's unconscious forms, clearly in some internal debate. With a sudden movement he reaches out a hand, and the pair of weequay are hoisted shakily into the air and onto the boarding ramp. After their limp forms have been plonked ceremoniously onto the ramp, he hoists himself up with some difficulty, narrowly pulling his legs out of the way of another blast from the blaster cannon.

"Not one word, Bane," he rasps as he collapses weakly against the corridor inside the boarding ramp, "Not one. And if we can't get those credits, I suggest you make sure no one does."

OOC: Zirak Derasir rolled 28 using 1d20+7+3d6. Move Object.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:45, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

"Not at all," Bane replies understandingly as he withdraws a frag grenade from his pack, "It would be rather short sighted, after all, to prioritise a crateful of credits over the two the weequay necessary to gain access to the Bulq family fortune. Still," he admits regretfully as he tosses the grenade down upon the lopsided crate, "It is painful to see so many credits blown to oblivion. Oh well."

Kuzran, who had just landed beside the crate, gives a curse in Durese as he leaps hastily backwards. A moment later the grenade connects, letting off an explosion which sends mangled steel and credit chip fragments in all directions. Kuzran continues to bellow curses as he and his mercenaries reign blaster bolts harmlessly of retreating ships shielded hull.

"It's the little things," Bane says fondly as he peers down at the group of furious duros below, before the ramp seals and he turns to make his way up to the cockpit, "You right to get these two to the medbay?" he directs at Zirak as he departs.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:54, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

He receives no response from the Sith lord, who still sits, slumped against the corridor wall, breathing shallowly, his head slumped forward on his chest.

"Great," Bane mutters to himself, "Always me who has to clean up the mess."

R5 gives an indignant beep from the direction of the cockpit.

"Oh?" Bane calls back irritably as he takes hold of Zirak's arms and begins to drag him unceremoniously down to the medbay, "I don't see you coming down here to give me a hand..."

"Beep-beepity-bloop-beep," R5 says defensively.

"Sure you are," Bane replies skeptically, grimacing as he clunks Zirak's head on the side of the medbay door.

"Uh... nothing!" he calls shiftily in response to a series of questioning beeps from R5.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:15, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

An hour later the bounty hunter slumps against the door to the medbay, panting and admiring his handiwork. Zirak lies splayed on the medbay bed, one leg dangling off the side, with Sora propped in a pile of blankets on the floor beside him. Ak-Yev slumps unceremoniously against the locker in the corner of the bay, a drip hanging rather precariously across the room to feed into his arm.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:51, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

"Should've been a doctor," Bane says smugly to himself, dusting off his hands before making his way down to the cockpit.

R5 glances skeptically into the medbay as it trundles past a few minutes later, and seems to just be thankful Bane didn't become a droid mechanic.

Zirak is the first to awaken, a couple of hours later, wincing as he pulls himself up, one leg in particular feeling very stiff, and begins to limp his way down the corridor to the cockpit.

"Are we on course for Ruul?" he confirms, forcing himself not to lean against the doorway as he stands, arms crossed.

"We are," Bane says idly from the pilot's chair, spinning to face the Sith lord, "You're looking better."

"It takes more than a pathetic blaster cannon to phase me," Zirak sneers in response, "If Sora would only harness the dark power within him instead of being a coward, he would not get knocked out half so much either."

"Well, Sora could do a lot of things to make our lives easier," Bane replies pointedly.

"True," Zirak agrees with feeling.

There is a moment of silence, before Bane breaks it once more.

"So, Zirak, have you ever played Pazaac?"

"Pazaac?" Zirak repeats blankly.

"Beep-boop-bleep," beeps R5 with interest, trundling up the corridor behind Zirak.

"I wasn't asking you," Bane replies darkly to the droid, "Card game," he adds to Zirak in a brighter tone, "Easy to learn and quite an engaging game."

"Engaging for both parties, or only for the one who's winning?" Zirak says suspiciously.

"Well, true," Bane allows, "But then life itself is a game which is only engaging while one is winning."

"Life is fun because there is a chance we will get power and credits," Zirak says firmly, with simple logic. "We neither of us have many credits to bet on this, and I don't see how cards are going to give me infinite power."

"Well, not infinite power, perhaps," Bane says appraisingly, "But I believe we have three thousand two hundred credits to divide between the two of us while our two weequay companions enjoy their rest..."

Zirak's eyes glint greedily.

"Three ways, I think. But keep talking."
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:59, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

"Beep-boopity-beep," R5 agrees firmly as it trundles into the room.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:00, Thu 05 Sept 2019.

Bane shoots the droid a dirty glance.

"Fine. The three of us," he amends reluctantly, before rising to lead the way downstairs to the parlour, "Come, I'll explain how to play."

R5 gives a smug beep before turning to trundle out after him.

With the promise of credits in mind, Zirak follows him.

"All right," says Bane as they reach the parlour, "Let's see if these idiots have a pazaac deck around here somewhere..."

He proceeds to rummage through the lockers in the room before making a triumphant noise.

"Got one. A little bent and faded, but it will do. Now, we just need a deck for R5..."

"Boop-beepity-boop," R5 replies, withdrawing a pristine pack of cards from one of its compartments with an appendage.

Bane ceases his search, glancing at the droid.

"Where did you get that?" he asks suspiciously.

"Boopity-bleep-dwoop," the droid says smugly.

"Of course you did," Bane replies darkly, before plonking himself onto one of the sofas around the circular holotable.

"These aren't actually bad couches," he remarks, bobbing up and down to test the elasticity of the seat.

"Pazaac, Bane," Zirak says pointedly as he seats himself opposite the bounty hunter.

"Right, Pazaac," Bane agrees, shifting himself into a comfortable position.

"The rules are simple. We keep drawing cards from the main deck, adding them together to make our score. They are random numbers from one to ten. The aim is to get a score of exactly twenty. Exceeding this number means you automatically lose. Those ten cards in your hand are your deck. You draw four of them randomly each match. You can choose to use any of those four each round to modify your score. Standard cards range from plus one to plus five. There are also minus one to minus five. Finally, there are even plus or minus cards, which you can choose to play as either."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:10, Fri 06 Sept 2019.

"Beep-boopity-beep," R5 prompts Bane matter-of-factly.

"Right," says Bane, "You can also 'Stand' at any time. This means you accept your current score as your final score, even if it has not reached twenty. You gamble that you will exceed twenty if you keep drawing, and hope that your opponents will exceed this number. Make sense?"

"I think so..." says Zirak slowly, looking at his cards, "So what if two players end up on exactly twenty?"

"They both get a point for that round," Bane explains, "We'll play five rounds. The player with the most points wins."

"All right," says Zirak confidently, drawing four cards from his deck and holding them quite low enough for both his opponents to see, "Let's do this."

"All right," says Bane, trying not to be to obvious as he glances at Zirak's hand, "That's a five for me. R5's turn."

Despite only having two pincers at the end of its appendage, R5 seems quite adept at handling its cards as it places its four cards face down on the table before it. It then draws a six from the central deck, placing it on the table in front of it.

Zirak draws a card. A nine.

"Good," says Bane, drawing a second card, "A seven. So that puts me on a total of twelve."

R5 draws a three, placing it neatly next to its six.

"A six," Zirak says as he draws his next card, "So fifteen all up. Does that mean I can play my plus five to make it a total of twenty?"

"That is correct," Bane replies, sending the offending card a sour glance. He then draws a two from the deck.

R5 draws a seven from the deck, swiftly overturning a plus four from its hand to make a total of twenty with a smug beep.

"Son of a curn," Bane mutters as he flips over a ten to bring his total up to twenty four, "All right, that is a point each for you two. Still, four more rounds to go..."

The next round passes more quickly. Upon reaching nineteen, Zirak elects to stand. R5 plays more boldly, ending up going over to twenty five. Bane reaches twenty three, but before Zirak can celebrate, he pulls out a plus minus three from his deck, bringing his total back down to twenty.

"And a point for me," the bounty hunter says smugly, "That's one all."

R5 and Bane tie the next round, and R5 wins the fourth with two tens from the deck.

"Lucky curn," Bane mutters bad naturedly as he records R5's three points, his own two and Zirak's one point.

R5 gives a series of smug beeps as they prepare to deal the final hand.

The final hand is long and drawn out. Zirak reaches twenty first, while R5 plods along slowly with ones, twos and threes from the central deck. Bane curses as he goes for a bold finish and ends up on twenty seven. R5 reaches eighteen before overturning a plus two from its hand with a triumphant beep.

"Beepity-boop-beep-dwoop," the droid sniggers as it scoops up the credit chips in the centre of the table.

Bane glowers at the droid as he scoops up his cards, glaring at each one as he puts them away.

"I told you we shouldn't have let him play," he says to Zirak darkly, "Probably has some cheating algorithm in there somewhere."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:06, Fri 06 Sept 2019.

"Beep-boopity-dweep?" R5 beeps innocently.

"The lesson, I think, is stick to chance cubes if we want to have infinite power and credits," Zirak says firmly, not bothering to retrieve his deck as he rises.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:17, Fri 06 Sept 2019.

Bane does not look as if he agrees entirely with this method either.

"Or perhaps 'flimsiplast, scissors, duracrete'..." he suggests grimly.

OOC: End of Chapter XI...