A flavor piece for a new character of mine… it was an enjoyable story to write, for a character who is refreshingly non-violent and covert. Please offer any revisions you feel the story requires. – J.

Fade's Gamble

"So…what'll ya give me for it?"

The dwarf mulled over the commlink in his hands, while the seller lurked in the shadows nearby. "Well, it's in good condition, but not one of the greatest models. I dunno, maybe a 100¥?"

"A hundred?! C'mon Hock, cut me some slack. The data on that thing's gotta add something to the bottom line."

"Data, huh? Who'd you swipe it from?"

"Some fat Mafioso at the local bar. I went through it and he's got some timetables for a few jobs on there. Gotta be worth something to the Yaks or Triads."

"Maybe…OK, I'll give you 500¥ for everything."

"Five? The data alone is worth more than that."

"Yeah, so long as I can find a buyer before said fat Mafioso learns his commlink's gone missing. Given my short window, you're lucky I'm offering that much, Fade."

Fade sighed. "Fine. I'll take the five."

The greasy dwarf wired the payment to the man in front of him and motioned for Fade to leave. "There's your cash. Now go pay rent or something while I try to find a buyer for this thing."

"Don't worry. This will be put to good use," Fade said, as he headed out of the alleyway.

"Read em and weep," Fade said, laying his down cards on the table. "Flush to the King."

The Asian man sitting across the table from him simply smirked, as he turned his hand over and showed the Ace of Hearts… the one card capable of besting Fade's hand.

"Dammit!" Fade, aka Robert Mitchell, stood up from the felt table and finished off his drink. His slightly Syrian features were molded in a scowl as he looked at the cards lying face up on the table. His opponent still wore that arrogant smirk as he pulled all the chips over to him and began stacking them in his anal retentive equal stacks. He leaned over the shoulder of his gambling buddy, Ernie and said, "Get my chips back from him, will ya?"

Ernie chuckled and nodded. "It's what I do."

Rob was heading for the front door of the casino when a cashier stopped him. "Excuse me, Mr. Mitchell?"

"Yes?" he said, somewhat surprised.

"A gentleman asked me to hand this to you," the woman said, holding out a piece of paper.

"Thanks," he said, taking the paper. The cashier went back to her place by the cash cage and he warily opened the note.

"Mr. Mitchell, I'd be honored if you joined me at my private table at the back of the casino for some Poker. My treat."

A watermark at the bottom of the paper showed a gavel. Robert had alarm bells going off in his head about this, but at the same time, he really needed money. He should have taken Hock's suggestion and paid his bills first, but then Ernie had called… he couldn't pull another job so soon, since it would be too risky.

Against his better judgment, he turned around and went back into the casino.