The Ruins of Dantooine (5 page)

“Are you well?” Tendau asked her when she reached his side.

“Yes, yes,” she reassured him. “I’m fine. He was just distraught by the death of his pet. If he cared about it that much, he should never have entered the contest.”

“The lure of credits can be very strong to some,” Tendau said. “And sometimes people just make mistakes.”

Dusque looked up sharply at his last statement and saw that he was regarding her steadily with his deep brown eyes.

“Enough seriousness,” he went on after a moment’s silence. “It is still early. Now that all the
foolish have pushed and jostled their way into the casino, why don’t we go and see what all the fuss is about, hmm?”

“It’s a little late,” Dusque began, trying to beg off, but she recognized the determined set to the Ithorian’s face.

“It’s barely past sundown,” he corrected her. He thrust out the crook of his long arm and said, “Why don’t we try our luck tonight?”

Dusque shook her head with a smile. “You never give up, do you?” And she slipped her arm through his.

Dusque raised a hand to her eyes and found that she needed to squint against the flashing lights. The casino was a hive of activity, sights, and smells. As soon as she and the Ithorian had rounded the corner after the entrance, their senses had been assailed by the noise and lights.

The main room was huge and filled beyond capacity with eager gamblers. Along one of the far walls, row after row of lugjack machines beeped and chirped. And almost every one of the devices was in use. Dusque watched for a few moments and saw that far more credits were pouring into the machines than were coming out. But every once in a while, a patron would jump up and down as her machine screeched a winning alarm and a few credit chips came shooting out.

Off to her right, Dusque saw at least three spinnerpits in operation. A dozen or more players were
crammed around each of the tables, piling their chips on their favorite numbers. Dusque noticed that some discreetly consulted small datapads; she wasn’t sure if they were trying to play a system or simply wanted to see how many credits remained in their bank accounts. She couldn’t even begin to guess how much the casino was raking in for its grand-opening extravaganza.

“My dear,” Tendau told her, “why don’t you try your hand at a few of the games?”

“That’s all right,” she told the Ithorian as she patted his hand. “I wouldn’t want to throw away any credits.”

“I’ve seen you staring at a few of the tables; you know you want to try. Go ahead,” he urged her, “and have a little fun.” He leaned down close to her right ear and whispered, “I’m sure we can find a way to claim any losses as necessary expense.”

She was momentarily shocked, but a smile spread across her face in spite of herself. It wouldn’t be the first time she and the Ithorian had bent the rules just a little bit.

“All right,” she finally agreed. “What about you? Not going to leave me holding the bag, are you?”

“Don’t be foolish, child. I think I saw Mastivo, the Coruscanti trader, here and I would like to exchange a few words with him,” he said.

“Tell him hello for me, would you?”

“Of course. Now have some fun.” And with that, the Ithorian shuffled off into the noisy mass.

The only thing he hadn’t done, she thought, was
pat her on the head and hand her a few credits, but Dusque knew he meant well.

She went over to one of the spinnerpits and threw out a credit chip onto a number at random, more to humor the Ithorian than anything else. When the wheel stopped turning, she was delighted to find out she had won. She smiled broadly and scooped up her winnings. Without her colleague acting as escort, though, Dusque soon realized that more than a few of the human males around the table were sizing her up, despite her drab attire. She moved to a different one and tried again. She surprised herself by winning yet again. Even Dusque couldn’t deny the tiny thrill of beating the odds.

With two pocketfuls of chips, she accepted a blue drink of indeterminate origin and sipped at it cautiously. She frowned at the taste. Whatever was in there was extremely intoxicating, and she set the beverage back down on the first empty seat she found. Dusque never allowed her judgment to become compromised, no matter the occasion, and she wasn’t about to begin tonight. She wandered about the casino and realized that she had the beginnings of a headache. She noticed there were a few semiprivate rooms off toward the back that appeared to be fairly quiet, so she made her way over to them, hoping to find a place where she could collect herself.

When she got closer, however, she realized that each room was full of players seated at tables large enough to accommodate only five or so. Each of the
players held a few chip-cards in his hands, and a dealer sat opposite them. Whatever the game was, she noticed they were all very serious about it, which explained why the rooms were so quiet compared to the rest of the casino. Dusque stood in the archway to the room and watched as the dealer pressed a special button on the table and the players then scrutinized their cards. Some proceeded to place one or more in the dealer’s interface field, while others allowed the dealer to continue to press his button.

It must send out some kind of signal
, she reasoned.

But it was what was heaped at the center of the table that puzzled Dusque. She knew that they must have been wagering, but she didn’t recognize the markers they were using. They weren’t the simple credit chips that everyone, including Dusque, used in the rest of the casino. She furrowed her brow in puzzlement, but could tell by the grim demeanor of the gamblers that no one would appreciate any questions from a nonplayer. She was so absorbed by the game itself that she wasn’t aware of the man who came over to stand next to her.

“Well, hello there,” he said after standing unnoticed by Dusque for several long moments.

Startled, Dusque turned and answered, “Hello.”

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the brown-skinned human said. “My name is Lando Calrissian. And you would be—?”

Dusque silently cursed Tendau for dragging her out when she could have been back in her quiet
room going over documents alone. While there was no argument that the man was handsome and obviously charming, he was just a little too shiny and slick for her tastes. She had met his type before.

“My name is Dusque Mistflier,” she replied with a smile and, after a beat, turned back to the game, hoping he would take it as a cue that she wasn’t looking for company. The man was not deterred so easily, though.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you were intrigued by the sabacc table. Care to play?” he invited suggestively.

Ignoring his innuendo, Dusque answered truthfully, “I think I understand the rudiments of the game, but I don’t recognize the markers that they’re playing with. Just what are the stakes?”

Lando smiled broadly, revealing even, white teeth. “They say if you have to ask, then you can’t afford to play.” He laughed deeply, but Dusque didn’t sense any spite in his tone. She returned his smile.

“I guess you have your answer, then,” she said and they both smiled again.

“Actually,” he explained, using the opportunity to move a little closer, “the markers have different values. You see that blue one there?” He pointed out a chip on the table, and Dusque nodded.

“That one is for a spaceship,” he said.

She sucked in her breath. “He’s risking his ship?”

“Yes.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputtered. “Who in their
right mind would gamble away a ship?” Dusque turned to her new companion for clarification, but he was silent for a moment. It was hard to tell, but she could almost swear Lando was blushing.

“Well,” he started to explain, spreading his hands expansively, “sometimes the stakes are worth it, especially if he thinks he’s drawn an ‘idiot’s array.’ What are the odds of two players drawing that in a single round?” he mumbled, but Dusque wasn’t paying attention.

One of the players, a Wookiee, revealed his hand, and Dusque watched the others throw their chipcards down in disgust. It was obvious he had won. The Wookiee wrapped his big, hairy arms around the pot and drew it toward himself, a self-satisfied grin plastered on his furry face.

Since the game seemed to be over, Dusque turned around to look back into the main room of the casino, and as she did, she caught sight of Tendau.

Her Ithorian friend was over in a corner, near some of the lugjack machines. She tried to discreetly wave to him, but he appeared to be so deep in conversation with a Bothan female that he didn’t notice Dusque. She scrutinized the Bothan fairly closely and didn’t recognize her from the arena. She was a bit puzzled as to who the woman was.

“Friend of yours?” Lando inquired solicitously.

Distracted, Dusque replied, “Yes, it is. I should go over and say hello. Thank you for the tutorial on sabacc,” she added, seizing the opportunity to leave his company.

Lando picked up her hand and brought it slowly to his lips for a brief kiss. Dusque tolerated the gesture and smiled when he released her hand. “Until later, perhaps?” he asked.

“Perhaps,” she answered and moved past him back into the main room, resisting the urge not to wipe her hand on her pants. However, when she looked back in the direction of her colleague, both he and the Bothan female had seemingly disappeared. Dusque was a little perplexed that she had lost track of him so quickly.

“This is probably his way of forcing me to mingle a little bit more,” she told herself quietly. “Of course, here I am in a room full of people and I’m talking to myself.” She chuckled.

“I could help you change that,” a deep but gentle voice offered.

“Lando, you just don’t know when to—” she started to say as she turned around. She caught her breath as she realized the voice hadn’t come from the suave gambler. Instead she found herself staring into the black eyes of her admirer from earlier in the evening. “Oh,” she said, immediately at a loss.

He was almost a head taller than she was, with thick eyebrows and ebony hair to match. His face was full of sharp angles, with a cleft chin and a strong jaw. Dusque couldn’t see many lines on his face, but he still had a weathered look about him, and she would have bet all the credits in her trousers that he had spent some time outdoors. His clothes
were nondescript, casual but practical like hers, not luxurious like Lando’s.

He doesn’t just push buttons inside some station
, she thought.
He gets his hands dirty.

When she glanced at his mouth, she realized he was still smiling at her and that she was still staring. Flustered, she dropped her gaze.

“Well,” he continued easily, “this isn’t good. You’ve gone from talking to yourself to not talking at all.” He cocked his head and grinned crookedly. “Do you feel lucky?”

“What?” she blurted out and then tried to clear her throat, not certain of his question.

Without another word, he grabbed her hand and gently but firmly led her through the casino. Dusque was so stunned, she actually let herself be pulled around. She could feel how strong his hand was, and how rough. There were quite a few calluses on it, and she was comforted that at least one of her hunches was right.

“Wait a moment.” She came to a stop. “Just where are you taking me?” she asked, no longer willing to be dragged around like a child’s toy.

He turned around and looked at her. “This is a casino, isn’t it? You did come here to have a little fun, didn’t you?”

“Well, I’m really here to—” she began, but he simply turned away and started to tug her over to one of the spinnerpits, appearing to disregard anything she might have had to say that was contrary to his plans.

“If I have to steal you,” he said, “so be it.”

As they found a free space near the table, the Twi’lek attendant nodded to Dusque’s abductor. “Back again?”

He grinned and held up Dusque’s hand. “Now that I’ve found my lucky piece, there’s no stopping me.” He looked at Dusque and asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

She was thrown so off balance by the question, she just said, “Red.”

He winked at her and placed a handful of chips on the spot she had unknowingly selected for him.

“No further bets at this time,” the attendant informed the group.

In spite of herself, Dusque became a little caught up in the excitement of the game. Ill at ease with the man next to her, she alternately hoped he would win or lose all his credits. Either way, she supposed, and he would eventually leave her alone. Yet there was a nagging voice in the back of her head that wasn’t certain she wanted him to leave just yet. With an effort, she overrode the offending mental noise as she always did.

“Red it is,” the attendant announced, and the man smiled at Dusque.

“See,” he told her, “I knew you’d bring me luck.” Dusque half expected him to kiss her hand with the same false gallantry Lando had shown, but he surprised her once more.

“Pick another for me?” he asked.

“Twenty-seven,” she replied, nonplussed.

One side of his mouth curled up. He turned to the attendant and said, “Twenty-seven, please.” And once again he won, much to Dusque’s exasperation. In fact, he won the next seven colors and numbers that she chose.

Enough was enough. Determined that he should ultimately lose, Dusque told him, “Double zero.” And she smiled wickedly when she saw his grin finally falter.

But he cocked his head sideways and told the dealer, “You heard the lady. Put it all on green.”

“You do realize the odds, don’t you, sir?” the dealer inquired. “And you do have a substantial amount on the table.”

“If she says green, then green it is,” her companion replied with a touch of bravado in his voice.

“No further bets,” the attendant told the large group around the spinnerpit. Dusque vaguely noticed that the crowd had grown considerably since their lucky streak began. But even she was caught up in anticipation. She watched the ball bounce and hop its way across the jubilee wheel, and she held her breath.

“The wheel is slowing,” the attendant informed everyone, although that much was obvious. Even he sounded a touch tense, though.