Post by Mr.Bobert on Feb 11, 2010 12:37:27 GMT -5
((Okay, this is not, I repeat, NOT[/b] part of the main storyline. Heck, this isn't even part of this Universe. But I thought we could use something different while we finish up the board, so here we go. xD If you need help learning how to play Sabacc, go here: Casino Sabacc. This happens in the Star Wars Universe, in the New Republic Era. Yes, this is the same Daleb Salut, but, as you can see, he's had a bit of a career change. xD))
Daleb Salut strolled into the smoke-filled bar, hidden deep within the Underworld of Coruscant. Here, anyone could come to do a number of things-- hide, make some money, or just have some fun. Daleb intended to do all of those things. He kept a scowl on his face, giving the impression of someone who'd just lost a large amount of money and was looking to temporarily forget about it with the help of some juma juice. He was only half-faking the look.
A few kilometers away, and a few levels up, was his ship, the Discord, a lightning-fast freighter he used for smuggling goods all over the galaxy. He'd come to Coruscant, maneuvered between buildings down to the Underworld, and landed, intending to pick up a sizable shipment of some rare--most likely stolen-- goods.
But it had been an ambush.
About a year ago, he'd been smuggling a large shipment of spice, and had been plucked out of hyperspace by an Imperial Interdictor under control of the New Republic. He'd evaded countless ion shots and attempted tractor-beam-locks as they chased his smaller ship down, but he couldn't evade them forever. When they finally got a tractor lock, he was forced to jettison the entire load of spice. He was skilled with using the Force to persuade people that there was nothing out of the ordinary onboard, but he knew he couldn't hide that much glitterstim.
Having found nothing, they let him go, but the guy he'd been bringing it to-- a corrupt Republic Senator gone Crime Lord when the Emperor dissolved the Senate years ago-- apparently held a grudge, and now was trying to kill him. The bounty hunters that had ambushed him told him so.
Kriff. He couldn't recall how many times he'd heard a similar story, never thinking it could happen to him. But it did. At least the Discord's security system would keep it safe from the thugs.
He shoved the thoughts aside and took a look at his surroundings. The bar was dimly lit by several yellow lights that looked as if they hadn't had maintenance done on them in centuries. The yellow smoke that was thick enough to cut with his lightsaber didn't help, either. There were no lights hanging above any of the tables scattered around the room, but placed strategically in between the tables, giving the occupants ample light for themselves but keeping them hidden from any spectators. The booths that lined the walls were even more private, having curtains blocking outsiders' view of whoever sat there. The only places that were well-lit were the long tables at the other end of the room were the long Pazaak tables--which actually only gave off their own light from the tabletops-- and the sabacc tables, lit from above by dealer droids.
For the first time all night, he grinned. Just my kind of place.
He walked up to the bar, took a seat, and ordered some Corellian ale. While he'd been born on Nar Shadaa, his parents had both been native of Corellia, and he liked to keep in touch with his Corellian side. And besides, Corellians made the best drinks, in his opinion. The bartender slid him a glass, and as he took a drink, he turned in his barstool and looked over at the sabacc tables. Being a smuggler, he was naturally drawn to the game, and being a Force-Sensitive, he was extremely good at it. He rarely lost.
He stood and walked over to a table, lured by the gleaming credchips. A game was already in place, and the players were a green-skinned Duros with only one eye, a scruffy-looking bothan, a young human--maybe only sixteen or seventeen-- and another near-human Daleb didn't recognize at first. But when he lost a significant amount of credits, and something at the aliens' cheeks moved slightly, he recognized he was an Anzati. Daleb raised his eyebrows. Anzati were a dangerous Force-Sensitive people, who used bizarre cheek-tentacles to suck the minds of their prey out. Or something like that. Daleb watched him for a few moments, and then the Anzat glanced at him, looked away, and then looked back. Daleb suppressed a grin. The guy probably now knew Daleb was a Force-User.
"Won't you join us?" the Anzati said, still looking at Daleb. Now Daleb allowed that grin to come out. The guy was looking for a challenge. Well, then, I'll have to give him a challenge.
"Well, I'm not that great at the game, but sure, why not?" he answered as he dragged an unoccupied chair over to the table. The Anzati uttered a quiet "Hrumph," as though he was well aware Daleb was lying.
Daleb looked up at the dealer droid. "Deal me in. What are the rules here?"
"The rules are standard sabacc rules," said the droid in a mechanical voice, "with a few variations. You shall be dealt only two cards at the beginning. Every round, you may place bets, select another card, continue to the next round, or call your hand. A Pure Sabacc of negative twenty-three will win against a positive Pure Sabacc of twenty-three. Same goes for a Sabacc. An Idiot's Array is made up of the Idiot, any two, negative or positive, or any three, negative or positive. If two or more players have an Idiot's Array, the one with the least amount of cards--three obviously being the minimum-- wins the round. If both players have only three cards, the one winner of the round shall be decided randomly by the dealer droid. Every two rounds your cards will be shifted, and you may place up to two of them in the interference field. The minimum bet every round is five New Republic Credits. Are there any questions?"
"Uh, nope," Daleb said, trying to appear as if he did, but was to embarrassed to voice them. Truth be told, he'd played under these rules before.
The droid handed him two cards, and when he thumbed them on, the screens showed a Master of Flasks and the Commander of Sabers, which added up to 23. A Pure Sabacc already?! This is going to be a great night, I can tell.
He kept his face neutral, and then set the cards down, facedown. He pulled out a hundred-credit chip, handed it to the droid, which deposited twenty five-credit sabacc chips, which he immediately slid to the center of the table. He was met with wide-eyed stares from the other players. "Raise, one-hundred credits," he said. The Duros, the Bothan, and the Anzati reluctantly slid the appropriate amount of chips to the table. The young human swore, collected his few remaining chips, and said, "I'm out."
"Call," Daleb said as he flipped his cards, showing his Pure Sabacc.
The Duros and the Bothan both swore, and flipped their cards. The Duros had the Evil One and Balance, equalling negative twenty-six, a bomb-out. The Duros had the Queen of Air and Darkness, giving him a great hand of negative nineteen. The Anzati kept a predatory smile on his face, sending a small shiver down Daleb's spine as he flipped his own cards. He had a nine of flasks and a nine of sabers, giving him eighteen. "Well played. You are very lucky."
"I've been told that. Wanna go again?"
"Of course."
Daleb Salut strolled into the smoke-filled bar, hidden deep within the Underworld of Coruscant. Here, anyone could come to do a number of things-- hide, make some money, or just have some fun. Daleb intended to do all of those things. He kept a scowl on his face, giving the impression of someone who'd just lost a large amount of money and was looking to temporarily forget about it with the help of some juma juice. He was only half-faking the look.
A few kilometers away, and a few levels up, was his ship, the Discord, a lightning-fast freighter he used for smuggling goods all over the galaxy. He'd come to Coruscant, maneuvered between buildings down to the Underworld, and landed, intending to pick up a sizable shipment of some rare--most likely stolen-- goods.
But it had been an ambush.
About a year ago, he'd been smuggling a large shipment of spice, and had been plucked out of hyperspace by an Imperial Interdictor under control of the New Republic. He'd evaded countless ion shots and attempted tractor-beam-locks as they chased his smaller ship down, but he couldn't evade them forever. When they finally got a tractor lock, he was forced to jettison the entire load of spice. He was skilled with using the Force to persuade people that there was nothing out of the ordinary onboard, but he knew he couldn't hide that much glitterstim.
Having found nothing, they let him go, but the guy he'd been bringing it to-- a corrupt Republic Senator gone Crime Lord when the Emperor dissolved the Senate years ago-- apparently held a grudge, and now was trying to kill him. The bounty hunters that had ambushed him told him so.
Kriff. He couldn't recall how many times he'd heard a similar story, never thinking it could happen to him. But it did. At least the Discord's security system would keep it safe from the thugs.
He shoved the thoughts aside and took a look at his surroundings. The bar was dimly lit by several yellow lights that looked as if they hadn't had maintenance done on them in centuries. The yellow smoke that was thick enough to cut with his lightsaber didn't help, either. There were no lights hanging above any of the tables scattered around the room, but placed strategically in between the tables, giving the occupants ample light for themselves but keeping them hidden from any spectators. The booths that lined the walls were even more private, having curtains blocking outsiders' view of whoever sat there. The only places that were well-lit were the long tables at the other end of the room were the long Pazaak tables--which actually only gave off their own light from the tabletops-- and the sabacc tables, lit from above by dealer droids.
For the first time all night, he grinned. Just my kind of place.
He walked up to the bar, took a seat, and ordered some Corellian ale. While he'd been born on Nar Shadaa, his parents had both been native of Corellia, and he liked to keep in touch with his Corellian side. And besides, Corellians made the best drinks, in his opinion. The bartender slid him a glass, and as he took a drink, he turned in his barstool and looked over at the sabacc tables. Being a smuggler, he was naturally drawn to the game, and being a Force-Sensitive, he was extremely good at it. He rarely lost.
He stood and walked over to a table, lured by the gleaming credchips. A game was already in place, and the players were a green-skinned Duros with only one eye, a scruffy-looking bothan, a young human--maybe only sixteen or seventeen-- and another near-human Daleb didn't recognize at first. But when he lost a significant amount of credits, and something at the aliens' cheeks moved slightly, he recognized he was an Anzati. Daleb raised his eyebrows. Anzati were a dangerous Force-Sensitive people, who used bizarre cheek-tentacles to suck the minds of their prey out. Or something like that. Daleb watched him for a few moments, and then the Anzat glanced at him, looked away, and then looked back. Daleb suppressed a grin. The guy probably now knew Daleb was a Force-User.
"Won't you join us?" the Anzati said, still looking at Daleb. Now Daleb allowed that grin to come out. The guy was looking for a challenge. Well, then, I'll have to give him a challenge.
"Well, I'm not that great at the game, but sure, why not?" he answered as he dragged an unoccupied chair over to the table. The Anzati uttered a quiet "Hrumph," as though he was well aware Daleb was lying.
Daleb looked up at the dealer droid. "Deal me in. What are the rules here?"
"The rules are standard sabacc rules," said the droid in a mechanical voice, "with a few variations. You shall be dealt only two cards at the beginning. Every round, you may place bets, select another card, continue to the next round, or call your hand. A Pure Sabacc of negative twenty-three will win against a positive Pure Sabacc of twenty-three. Same goes for a Sabacc. An Idiot's Array is made up of the Idiot, any two, negative or positive, or any three, negative or positive. If two or more players have an Idiot's Array, the one with the least amount of cards--three obviously being the minimum-- wins the round. If both players have only three cards, the one winner of the round shall be decided randomly by the dealer droid. Every two rounds your cards will be shifted, and you may place up to two of them in the interference field. The minimum bet every round is five New Republic Credits. Are there any questions?"
"Uh, nope," Daleb said, trying to appear as if he did, but was to embarrassed to voice them. Truth be told, he'd played under these rules before.
The droid handed him two cards, and when he thumbed them on, the screens showed a Master of Flasks and the Commander of Sabers, which added up to 23. A Pure Sabacc already?! This is going to be a great night, I can tell.
He kept his face neutral, and then set the cards down, facedown. He pulled out a hundred-credit chip, handed it to the droid, which deposited twenty five-credit sabacc chips, which he immediately slid to the center of the table. He was met with wide-eyed stares from the other players. "Raise, one-hundred credits," he said. The Duros, the Bothan, and the Anzati reluctantly slid the appropriate amount of chips to the table. The young human swore, collected his few remaining chips, and said, "I'm out."
"Call," Daleb said as he flipped his cards, showing his Pure Sabacc.
The Duros and the Bothan both swore, and flipped their cards. The Duros had the Evil One and Balance, equalling negative twenty-six, a bomb-out. The Duros had the Queen of Air and Darkness, giving him a great hand of negative nineteen. The Anzati kept a predatory smile on his face, sending a small shiver down Daleb's spine as he flipped his own cards. He had a nine of flasks and a nine of sabers, giving him eighteen. "Well played. You are very lucky."
"I've been told that. Wanna go again?"
"Of course."