Twice As Fast, Twice As Bight

[Hannibal Oryen]

CANTO BIGHT
CANTO CASINO, GAMBLING FLOOR

Hannibal's earpiece was buzzing. Not unusual, given what he was here to do, but it was still kind of annoying. Made it harder to focus on watching the crowd in this here casino. He was in a pretty sharp get-up. Not as snazzy as the Canto Bight Police officers, but still pretty snazzy. Basically sans helmet and cape. Which was a shame, Hannibal loved capes. Might not have been practical, but it sure looked cool. Casino security liked to dress up as close to the CBPD as they could without being a spitting image. Made people feel more safe, he guessed.

"Gold three, are you there?"

Oh, the earpiece was buzzing for him. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. What?"

"Have your eyes on the target?"

Hannibal squinted. He did not need to squint, his eyes had been cybernetically replaced about ten years ago Then he got the mandatory software upgrades every two years, replaced them completely with newer models every five. Expensive lifestyle, but when you bag as many bounties as Hannibal did, they practically paid for themselves. In installments of 600 credits a month over the course of ten years, but who was counting? Not like he was paying for much else. But he was still there squinting like a near-sighted jackass. Old habits die hard.

"Nope."

A few seconds later, then there was static and a terse reply. "Copy that."

Now he would be left in silence for another twenty minutes. Being part of a larger team was dull in this way, especially when you weren't at the head of it. But given the unique nature of the target, unfortunately necessary. Even catching him off-guard in a casino after a few drinks could be... Dangerous. Hannibal continued to watch the mass of gamblers scurry about from table to table, machine to machine.

There's no way this could ever get boring.

 

[Ereza]

"I don't want it."

"It's your inheritance, Merovign."

"No."

It was not a conversation that had taken the expected route, but with all things that came to a head the death of the family Matriarch had left many branches in disarray. Amidst the flux of power over Rudrig one such Shamalain branch had seen to a hasty retreat, quietly escaping the shadow of the Sith Empire for a place of sanctuary. Ereza found them on Lorrd after enough effort, where she tended to the final will of the woman she once called Masenre. How curious that the woman's only son would turn away what amounted to financial security in the form of a Tier 5 shipwright company on the other end of the galaxy.

Ceto Engineering & Technology Operations would, instead, be granted to her. Curious.

Ereza thought about this as she sat at a Dejarik table within the grand Canto Casino, whiling away the minutes her opponent spent mulling over his next move. They had Dejarik on Garhall by another name, with other creatures, but the game was still the same. Ereza was very good at Dejarik. Her opponent was beginning to look somewhat concerned for himself if the lines forming on his elongated brow could be interpreted as such.

"Apologies," said the primly dressed Muun with a gentle clearing of his throat, accepting a drink from a passing waitress.

The blond woman offered a thin smile and a slow, patient breath, "Please, take all the time that you need." The response was gentle but the gaze settled upon the man openly unnerved him. Something about fire and ice in a single unwavering stare that wasn't deeply comforting.

"The House would like to offer the Lady a drink," another Waitress, her strange alien appearance drew that gaze away rather quickly.

So many different races. She wondered how short this one's lifespan average was.

"Thank you," a thin brow arched at the offer, lips pursing as a selection presented itself on a silver platter, "I do not drink. Water will do."

"Oh," a squeak, was that common for this species? Ereza eyed the diminutive Waitress with bare amusement, "we have only the most pristine, sparkling water for our guests. I'll return in a moment!"

She watched her go, wondering at the strange toddling-manner in which she moved. A fresh glance to her opponent who still hemmed and hawed over his move, the smile she offered was supposed to be patient but the edge of curious boredom could likely be construed if one weren't distracted by the scars. The woman idly smoothed the materials of her gown over her knee.

Go to Canto Bight, Merovign had said. Meet some of the high-rolling players of the galaxy, he said.

There's no way this could ever get boring.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

"Heeey," Hannibal hissed, half-turning to see the waitress that was prodding him with her freehand. "Watch the threads, sweetheart, yeah?"

Weird, usually the dames were placated when he said sweetheart. But this one looked determined, focused on something else. That was fine, she was some kind of alien that Hannibal wasn't too interested in placating anyway. Maybe he should have waited 'till he turned around completely before calling her sweetheart. She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered to the Fondorian. "We've got a Forcie at table seven."

Among other things, Hannibal was ready to ask her why the hell he would care. He recalled, in that moment, that he was dressed as casino security. "...So?"

She looked annoyed, like he should have known the answer to that question. And since he was apparently security, yes, he definitely should have. "So she's cheating, idiot," she hissed in a low voice. "Mr. Yonlim wants her out of here."

Who?

Okay, he was catching on, no more stupid questions. "Right, what table?"

"Seven."

Hannibal was silent.

"That one, with the Muun."

"I've seen, like, eight different Muuns since I got here, so-"

"Look, the one with the Muun and the human woman. The blonde."

The human woman! The blonde, no less! There we go, now she was speaking in terms Hannibal could get with. "Yeah, I sees her." Oh, he saws her alright. Hannibal's eyes settled on the back of [member="Ereza"] 's head. And the back of her head was looking all sorts of ridiculous, if he did say so himself. And he did say so himself, as a purely factual matter, now that you asked. Absent-mindedly, Hannibal ran a hand over his bald head - smoothing out hair that was no longer there. Better not count his Garqian chickens before they hatched, though. He'd already made that mistake with cow-face over here.

He must have been lost in his thoughts for more than a hot second, because the waitress chimed in again, voice tense with frustration. "Well?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." This would only take a couple minutes, tops. Hannibal adjusted his belt and sauntered over to the table, stopping at the very end. He examined the surface and the little hologram monsters, taking note of their positions and the stage of the game... Then noticed the Muun was staring at him expectantly. "Oh, go on. Do ya thing," Hannibal said waving dismissively, "I'm just spectatin'."

It's not like he could go arresting anyone without any evidence of misconduct. Then again, he couldn't actually arrest anyone in the first place...

 

[Ereza]

Bright eyes watched as her opponent finally made his move, the holoprojected creature of his choosing (the Monnok this round) wended forward with a blue glimmer to take on her stationed Ng'ok. The battle that ensued might've been described as bloody and barbaric were it not for the fact that these were mythological playing pieces duking it out.

She lost her Ng'ok to a pursing of her lips and the arrival of a tall drink of water.

Security of some kind judging by the stiff posture and faintly vacant expression. Ereza could hardly contain her own excitement with this fetching form of gambling, naturally anyone tasked with watching others sink their funds into a bottomless abyss should be just as close as bursting their seams.

"Lucky..." the woman commented as her actual glass of water arrived. The crystal flute was as sparkling as she imagined it would be, she took it gently between her fingers and considered her move.

"You know where I come from we do not have these creatures in our game, what is this one called?" free hand motioned to the k'lor'slug sitting, coiled, in wait on her side of the board. She was asking the tall drink of water, indicative of the rather direct and expectant glance given to him.

[member="Hannibal Oryen"]

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Hannibal had no idea - not even the faintest - what the hell that slug thing on the table was. But when you rip out as many organic bits and replace them with robot bits as Hannibal did, you didn't need to have a goddamn idea about anything. Hi-Sense cybernetic eyes focused on the holographic projection, connecting with the holonet via another special brain implant and rapidly comparing it. Information scrawled across his field of vision like the opening introduction to a two-bit hackjob sci-fi holomovie. K'lor'slug.

"That there's a Kalore slug," Hannibal said, sniffing disdainfully. Hadn't he killed one before? Maybe. Not like he bothered to search up every animal he ever shot at. That'd get tedious - especially since they generally weren't worth too much. "Nasty little dudes, venom really packs a punch."

He rocked on his heels, casually leaning back to see if anyone was watching him. Nobody paid him much mind and the nosy alien waitress had long since packed up. "But what they's really known for is their magic senses. Gives 'em an advantage over other predators, dig?"

The Muun was staring at him again, which Hannibal didn't much care for. "Am I talking to you, pal? Play with ya critters."

Ereza's opponent briefly looked like he might have choked on something, then averted his eyes to the table. Hannibal returned his attention to blondie. He noticed the weird scars around the right eye, like she got zapped in it. Or maybe she could zap lightning out of that eye. The heterochromia iridum was a nice touch too. Could be a near-human like him. Kinda scary, kinda hot. Definitely more ridiculous from the front than the back, that was for sure.

"How's about you and me take a walk real quick?"

[member="Ereza"]

 

[Ereza]

Kalore Slug.

Interesting name.

Ereza bartered a glance to her opponent, drawn by the shift in his expression that might make one think this man had just vomited over their table with his unrefined dialect. Who the devil signed his employment contract? the thought in the Muun's head was a strong one.

"Magic senses? How exotic..." she ordered the Kalore Slug forward to meet the Muun's victorious Monnok. A short-lived victory, to be certain, maybe as short as the Mandalorians' resurgence to power in recent times. Not that she knew much of anything about that.

The Muun gave a sigh and wiped at his forehead with a kerchief. He'd bet a lot of money on this game thinking the blond woman hadn't stood a chance and now he was down to his last two pieces. He'd need to use a great deal of strategy to make a comeback, but she'd seen people win from more dire straits than this. Best to give him time to consider...

A short break for a quick walk, as it were. Ereza slipped off her chair, taking up her water and a golden clutch.

"Walk me in the direction of the ladies room, if you would be so kind."

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

"Sure thang, sure thang," Hannibal said, saying one thing and doing another as he often did.

He steered her off the casino floor, hand pushing her by the small of her back. If Ereza had paid any attention to the layout of the casino, it would not take long for her to discover that wherever Hannibal was taking her had little consideration for the immediate proximity of the ladies room. Meanwhile, someone on his team had probably seen Hannibal getting involved in petty casino nonsense and reported it. His earpiece squawked in protest, but the Fondorian ignored it. Didn't they know it was rude to start taking calls when you're with a beautiful woman? Beautiful-scary in this case, seeing that scar and all. Still! Some people just had no manners.

They arrived in a side corridor, "Right 'ere, blondie."

It was by no means an empty hallway. Gamblers, servers, and droids occasionally meandered by - some more intoxicated than others. They were just too absorbed in their own business to care if casino security was having some stern words with Darth Golden Eye over here.

"Now look, the house has funky ways of detectin' wizardry when it shows up, yeah? And they don't like folks mind-reading their opponents, so how about ya stay away from the game tables for the night?"

Strictly speaking, this conversation was only being had because Hannibal did not actually have the ability to throw her out. And he didn't want that waitress or the Muun coming to bother him for not fixing the issue as it was, because that would just blow his cover even worse. You had to resolve these things diplomatically.

[member="Ereza"]

 

[Ereza]

"Does it now?" Ereza inquired, brows faintly lofting as she considered the implication here. If she was a Wizard then this man was a Movie Star - pity, his acting needed work and he clearly had no idea where he was taking her. The Ladies Room was in the opposite direction. The woman took a slow drink from her flute, saffron and glacier sliding up and down the man's frame just as slowly.

"And does the House also have funky ways of detecting imposters in their security?"

Bright-eyed, blonde-haired wizards, apparently.

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Hannibal scoffed audibly, perhaps indicating contempt for the casino. "Evidently-freakin'-not."

What kind of question was that? All Hannibal had to do was swipe a uniform and a passkey. Same as everyone else on the team. This wasn't rocket science. Turnover rate was pretty high for security at Canto Bight so most of the staff didn't seem to notice, and the ones that did got a nice stun-stick to the neck, some fancy hand-ties, a sock in the mouth, and a private closet to spend the night in. It did eventually occur to Hannibal that, perhaps, he should not have implied as much with his answer to [member="Ereza"].

"Er, forget that, actually," Hannibal shook his head, "Look, I don't know what ya just implied-"

And what he'd all but confirmed. Stupid wizards, getting into his head...

"-But you're gonna stay away from the game tables, so's I can do the job I'm supposed to be doin' and you don't have to be seen gettin' strutted on out for bad behavior. See? Good deal."

 

[Ereza]

Intrigue had its place, but not in a cookie jar.

Ereza maintained a bemused expression, stance squaring up the man in uniform as he blithered on. She leaned in towards him, not quite close enough to be immediately imposing but close enough to share the faint aroma of lavender perfume, "25% of my winnings to shut your howling screamer and go back to footeling about the casino."

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Hannibal stared at [member="Ereza"] in wild disbelief. "Footeling?" He repeated, exasperated.

This particular Fondorian cyborg had spent many years h acquiring an impressive education, and many more years traipsing about the galaxy in a series of increasingly unlikely interstellar high-jinks and hootenannies. Hannibal hadn't seen or done it all, just... Most of it. Maybe like 15% - no small number in this swirling cesspool of a galaxy. He had come into possession of many exotic words and phrases, but never had he been subjected to an utterance of "footeling."

It was everything Hannibal wanted in a word and more. He just didn't know it yet.

Hannibal quickly recovered from the culture shock of learning a new word and resumed his diatribe. "Whatever, toots, I ain't got any need for your pocket change. What I need is for you t' make like a tree, and get outta from where's I can see ya. Elsewise this howlin' screamer ain't exactly likely to shut any time soon."

 

[Ereza]

Pocket change? Ereza lofted a curious brow at the expression and considered the nail in the coffin on his own false parade. Wait staff weren't paid enough to turn down a bribe like that. Overlooking the unknown word of 'toots' in favor of his response in full, a cautionary smirk slowly pulled across the woman's lips.

"Obstinate, are you?"

A breath later and she was a measure closer, breathing in his curious accent, only an inch shorter in her heels.

"No," that single syllable might as well have been the sound of a challenge toll.

"Excuse me, Lady Ereza?"

Her smirk slowly broadened as she turned to find the very same server from before, the one that had apparently filed complaint with this strapping young lad, holding up a silver platter with a holo-ticket on it, eyes faintly glazed over, "You've won tonight's Black Draw Jackpot, congratulations!"

Ereza took a breath, looking positively shocked, "Marvelous."

 

[Hannibal Oryen]

Now she had done it.

[member="Ereza"] had gotten all up in his business. Possibly his grill. Since she was already established as looking all kinds of ridiculous, this shouldn't have been an unwelcome gesture. The problem was that Hannibal smelled something else afoot. He smelled space magic, and whenever there was space magic there was all kinds of ridiculous. And not the "evil eye, nice looking face" kind of ridiculous - that was positive ridiculous. Getting a space magician up in his face-space was a different ridiculous.

Negative ridiculous.

Hannibal's response was a finger, giving her a poke right in the sternum to either move her back out of his space or keep her at bay. That was all he really needed. If he fired up the repulsors just right, a single flick of that digit was enough to break noses and knock out teeth. "I'm aboutta obstinate all over the freakin' place if you don't-"

The waitress was back! And now Ereza was out of his face as well. Parting was such sweet sorrow, except when it wasn't. The Fondorian narrowed his eyes at this exchange. More space magic afoot. He didn't like it, but maybe now he could get back to doing what he was supposed to be doing.

"Golly gee, what a coincidental transpireance," Hannibal said, scathing with sarcasm. For those keeping track at home, transpireance is not a real word. He had made it up just now. "I guess that means it's time to call it a night and vamoose all majestic-like."