Who is DJ? What's his story? Here's a possibility.
DJ and the pilot
Canto Bight is a place for the high-rollers, for the rich to become richer, where deals are made and money even more so. DJ would end up in a prison cell there, although whether he had the choice is debatable, as locked doors were never a problem.
But the galaxy has many other casinos, many other bars, brothels and prisons, and thoroughout his "career", DJ had seen the inside of many of them. There was a time when he even had a name of his own, no reputation, a decent living, and standards. He didn't often have flashes of clear recall, or regrets, but some nights, when the stars shone a little too brightly, or the cold wind blew and an empty bed spoke of a solitary existence, at those moments, DJ did have perfect recall, and sometimes the pain would be so great, he'd have to drink his way into another prison cell.
Once, on a space station orbiting a tropical paradise of a planet, there was a bar. The space station serviced the playground of the rich on the planet below. Here the maintenance workers, security personnel, cleaners, cooks and "entertainment" people came to spend their hard-earned credits and say what they really thought of their bosses and clients. Passing traders came for "the works", their crew R&R was hard-won, a pay-off for the long hours and months on the trading runs. In short, not a hive of scum and villainy such as mentioned in other stories, but it was not a home to the elite, and the police that worked the worked the station usually kept a lid on the criminal element. It was loud, all-day, all-night activity.
To the croupier on a 3-day pass from his usual job, it was a haven of normality, a place to trade up his skimmed credits, and a place to get royally drunk. This last was his intent when he entered Mikie's, a low-lit bar on the 4th level. Mikie, a mauve-skinned, bulbous-eyed Jorkan, peered out of the fug of cobrite fumes that usually denoted his laid-back attitude. "Ho, Dorf, you want the Naxian? He's back later for exchanges."
"Nah, I'll catch him tomorrow. My tab looking healthy?" The croupier's name was not Dorf, but Mikie insisted on calling him that, with no explanation given, so he let it pass.
"Since you tipped me on that Strike game, you're in credit. You got a big night ahead? "
"Drink, food, drink."
"I'm A-ok on that. Cobie's in the kitchen, I'll send him out when you finish the first bottle." Mikie laughed shrilly in the Jorjkan way and one of his four arms sent a bottle of Trovian whiskey skidding down the bar. At the same time he set out a glass of Starshine - a notorious hooch said to have been brewed in a dragon's belly and matured in a Thoxan beehive for 100 years - in front of another customer.
The croupier opened his bottle and looked across the bar, wondering who was flush enough to order one of the quadrant's most expensive and brain-addling drinks. He wandered that way, seeing the other drinker take a large swallow and turn back to watching a sports fixture on the big screen. He saw a humanoid, most likely human woman in a freighter pilot's coverall. Her hands, he saw, had short, scrubbed nails, her boots were old and worn and she had a dockers cap on, with long, honey-blonde hair escaping it's confines. It was unusual enough to intrigue him, most space-worker women kept their hair short. As if she was aware of his scrutiny, she turned and gave him a similar quick appraisal, her mouth quirking in a smile.
"So, card-flipper, seen enough?" Her accent marked her as mixing with space gypsies, she had a lilt that was pleasing to his ear
"Maybe, maybe I'm wondering how many of those" He indicated her drink "you'd need before you'd find me attractive?" He was chancing it, casino slick didn't usually work on real working women.
She laughed. "You want to stick around and find out, you mean. Got a name, party boy?"
"Well Mikie always calls me Dorf, but my name is Dase." He almost gave his full name, but stopped before he could make a mistake, it never ended well if he gave a girl all the information.
"Well, card-flipper Dase, you can call me Jez. Order me up some Kratcha and we can tell each other lies until planet-rise"
So Dase and Jez ate, drank and swapped stories. They had a surprising amount in common, although Dase had never travelled the galaxy or seen as many worlds as Jez, they had similar backgrounds, both independent, parents who worked hard but could never achieve, poor communities where getting out was the best career move. Both had tried out for military service, Dase being thrown out of the New Republic army for drunkenness, Jez escaping from the shadowy First Order after being conscripted. She'd taken a long pull of her second glass of Starshine when relating this. He's asked what was so bad, she'd said he was better off not knowing.
After a few hours, he suggested they go somewhere else and she readily agreed. Dase had a room with a view of the the station central dock, where the pleasure craft refuelled. Jez stood at the window at sighed to see the "Beautiful dancers" that were only owned by the rich. She could only dream, she told Dase, of piloting such a craft, and was able to name the class, type, modifications and engine capacities of every single one.
"You're as good with fliers as I am with relieving other people of their money" Dase had laughed at that, but Jez looked sad. He lifted her chin and she smiled back at his silly expression. "I'm better" she vowed.
She was better at other things, too, to Dase's delight and pleasure. He idly wondered what space gypsies got up to during long voyages.
They spent the next 3 days together, almost as one. Dase thought he knew himself, and women, well enough not to become infatuated, but this was a learning curve he was eager to take. When they parted, he was genuinely sad, but had to get back to work. Jez promised to keep in touch, she was, she said, transferring to a new hauler that would dock at the station every 3 months, if he could get a pass.
It was a done deal, and they spent idyllic days together when they were both able to get time off. The fifth time, he suggested they go planet-side so she could see how the rich lived. Jez thought the idea hilarious, but agreed, as she had an early completion bonus and a week off.
Down on the tropical planet, most people dressed lightly, and Jez spent some credits hiring a jewelled and sheer-in-all-the-right-places evening gown. She had her hair and nails done at a Promenade beauty bar and Dase would always retain a memory of the "goddess" he walked out with that evening. She only complained of the shoes, having never worn glass heeled "rich-bitch" footwear before.
It was a charmed and magical evening, and Dase realised he was in love. It was a strange and previously unknown sensation. He didn't dare ask Jez if she felt the same, for fear that she was not so involved. After returning the hired evening-wear, they were returning to the shuttle Jez had borrowed from her boss. In the moonlight, Jez's hair, still shining from the treatment, was hanging free, the odd platinum blonde strand stirring in the light breeze. Dase stopped her and kissed her on impluse, thinking life could not get better than this.
"Fool" Jez laughed softly, but draped her arms around his neck as if she needed his support.
"Marry me" the words were out of his mouth before he realised he'd even thought them.
Jez looked stunned. "I think the music is still ringing in my ears." She shook her head "It's impractical, you work here, I haul out on frieghters 4 times a year, wouldn't make for much of a family life."
"I can change jobs, or you can, or we could just start over. Please, just think about it. I've never committed to anything this much since I left home. I think I love you."
"I would hope you did, to propose we change our whole lives. We've never spent more than a week together, I don't know how that would work out." She was not ruling it out and Dase realised he'd jumped on a fast horse with no idea how to ride.
"Is that a yes? You know they have a multi-faith chapel here, we could do it tonight."
"You are crazy" Jez looked at her clothes, regular ship-gear "Won't look good in the pictures."
Dase laughed, he felt crazy, but he couldn't imagine his life without this wonderful, beautiful, fascinating woman, who could drink him under the table and not be hungover next day. It didn't matter that he didn't know that much about her, all that mattered was that she wanted to commit to him, and to hell with the rest.
The ceremony was performed by a friend of Dase, a man who claimed to have practiced every religion at some point in his long life. He introduced them to a friend who would act as a witness. She said her name was Maz, and if they had any paperwork problems, she could arrange things for a small fee. It was done quickly with no problems and Dase took his new bride back to the shuttle, where she piloted her new husband back to the station.
A few months passed with both attempting to find time to be together. They moved worlds, Jez's piloting skills were tested on various craft and she gained a reputation for being reliable, a fast learner, and adaptable to virtually anything that flew. Dase was not so lucky, his habit of "investigating" finances and hacking systems had got him in a few close shaves, although he hadn't been arrested yet. They settled on Coruscant for a few months, but had to leave when Dase was caught breaching a "secure" data vault. Jez never blamed him, but sometimes she would look sadly at him, as if he should know better than to get caught.
One morning, Jez annaounced she had secured an escort pilot job with the leaders of the New Republic, Princess Leia and her husband Han Solo, although not directly connected to the family. Dase went to work for a trader outfit and again encountered the witness from the wedding. Maz Kanata was not what most people regarded as legal, at a thousand years old, she said rules were for other people. She was a canny operator and put work Dase's way, allowing him to build up some savings for a change. Savings that would come in handy.
Jez dragged Dase along to the hospital wing of the compound she was based in. The med-droid and the senior medic were present, and the news was not as good as they had hoped for.
"The pregnancy is healthy and well-enough along to lower the risk of problems, but Jez is presenting with vascular dilations at G-pressures that would be harmful."
"What does that mean?" Dase had no idea about medic terms.
"It means me and the baby can't tolerate high acceleration or G-force without risking a rupture."Jez looked resigned "I'm grounded, I won't be able to fly until after the baby comes."
"You want to keep working? We have enough money, you don't have to."
"I want to. If I can't fly, at least I can work on the fliers, there's no risk and it will be good to get back to maintenance." Jez was settled on the idea. She was not an inactive person and liked to tinker.
The plan was settled, Jez became ground-crew and Dase would call in at the flight section of the compound a few days a week to collect her after her shift. One day he arrived to find her chatting with a tall hairy creature that could only be the Wookie, Chewbacca. With him was a dark-haired boy, about 7 years old, who Jez introduced as Ben Solo, the son of Han and Leia. The boy was a sober sort, not given to chatter. Jez had become friendly with the boy when he stopped to ask about her work. His parents were often busy so he was at a loose end after his lessons.
Jez sat down for a moment "It's alright, just a bit dizzy, the baby moved." she waved away assistance, but Ben unexpectedly put his hands on her swelling belly. "It's a girl" he pronounced, after appearing to listen for a moment.
"That's right" Jez put her hands over his "But how did you know?"
The boy shrugged "She told me" he said it as if everyone could do such a thing.
"Oh, thank you, that's clever. She doesn't talk to me."Jez laughed it off, but Dase caught a note in her voice that warned him not to say anything. "I'm going home now, I might see you tomorrow?" she held his hands, removing them from her belly.
"I don't know, momma thinks we will be having visitors, important ones. Can I see the baby when she's born?"
"Well, it won't be for a few months yet, hopefully, but I think that will be alright" Jez was a bit startled at the request, but she hid it well. Ben and Chewbacca moved away. Dase put his arm around his wife "He's a bit of an odd one, isn't he?"
"Just a bit lonely, there aren't many other kids his age around here, and his parents are always all over the place. No wonder he goes looking for company"
"Our daughter won't have that problem, I promise" Dase meant it "Even if one of us has to mind her full-time, we'll always be there for her".
Dase did his best, when Mirea was born, he only took jobs that kept him close to home, and even when they moved as a family to another New Republic world when she was a toddler, one of them was always at home. Mirea was their delight, she had Dase's dark hair and Jez's smile and was a content child, always fascinated by moving objects and mechanical toys. In all ways, they had a near perfect life.
Then it happened, the shadowy First Order had been raiding planets on the Outer Rim, taking resources, enslaving populations and taking children to indoctrinate in their ways and make a ready army. They had never pushed this far into the galactic centre and the raid was a complete shock, the sky filled with the bulks of huge ships, landing craft filled with troopers, overwhelming the defence grid, frightened people being rounded up, the planet's security overwhelmed.
Dase abandoned his job and ran toward home, he knew Jez would be taking whatever action she could. It was difficult to remain out of view of the invaders, but their little home was in a less populated part of the city and Dase prayed he would get there in time. As he approached from the back of the property, he saw a trooper get blasted backwards out of the first-floor window. Jez looked out, she had a weapon. "Dase!" she shouted and went back inside, appearing in a matter of moments from the back door, Mirea in one arm, the trooper's rifle in the other. "We have to get to Sonny's, we can hide for a little while" She handed over the child but kept the rifle. Dase remembered that Jez had much more weapons experience that him, so she led the way. By careful use of the buildings as cover, they were able to reach the store owned by Jez's friend Sonny, a former trader who had put down familial roots on this planet. It appeared the store was deserted, but a beeping told Jez the family had gone to their underground shelter. Jez slipped a data-coder out of her boot-top and slipped it into a slot in a smooth wall. The wall slid back, there was a passageway behind it ."Sonny, once a smuggler, always a smuggler" Jez smiled. They hurried in and the door slid closed behind them. Not a moment too soon, as a squad of heavily armoured troopers opened fire, decimating the contents of the store.
The passage sloped down, and as they passed each turning, Jez triggered a dead-fall behind, ensuring there would be no pursuit. "If they don't have ground-sonar, we should be okay" Jez looked more worried than she sounded, but she smiled for Mirea's sake.
At the last turn, there was a heavy door that Jez opened with the coder. Inside was Sonny and her family. The women embraced for a moment and Dase handed Mirea over to Sonny's daughter, a woman with several children of her own. Dase joined his wife at a contact station that Sonny had set up "They're jamming us, we can't get a signal out to the New Republic. " Sonny looked glum,
"What about Taz? That smuggler has all the bypass codes, and he only left this morning." Jez spoke of Sonny's brother, who had maintained his smuggler connections.
"He can call in, but we can't contact him. Is there anyone we can get a hold of?" Sonny was a practical woman, but she would take whatever help was offered.
Dase thought for a moment, then took off his hat. pulling back the folds revealed a strip of tiny data discs. "I kept these from when I worked for Maz Kanata. If we can get a signal to her, she can alert the someone." He worked fast, every additional minute was an opportunity, slipping a coded signal past the big ships and their jammers was not going to be easy. Disc after disc was rejected until the last but one. The code was accepted and Dase typed in the sequence for "under attack, trapped, send help soonest". It would be relayed on a piggy-back carrier boosted by the Order's own transmitters. They could only wait...
"Give me your hat" Jez sat up. All the children were asleep, their frightened cries overwhelmed by fatigue. The adults dozed, also exhausted by the tension. 36 hours had passed, the occasional tremor indicating the bombardment and subjugation of Thesla was proceeding as planned by the First Order.
Dase carefully rearranged Mirea's sleeping form. Now 4 years old, she was a daddy's girl and always settled more quickly with him than with her mother. Jez didn't mind, she didn't remember much of her own parents, they had died in a transporter explosion when she was 5, she had been raised by her grandmother and extended family, most of them star-spanning space gypsies, and said her restless spirit probably disturbed the child. Dase slipped his hat off, it was the one she had given him when they came to Thesla, protection from the frequent rain and cold winds, he usually stored his data coders in the brim. He handed it to her, raising an eyebrow when she pulled a heat marker from her top pocket.
"Remember this, if anything happens, always." There was a smell of burned leather as she inscribed the characters into the words "Don't Join" she smiled sadly "My grandmother taught me to be independent, Don't Join, she said, be yourself and no-one can steal that away." She looked at their sleeping child "Teach her that, if you have no-one, you always have yourself." She set the hat back in his head. "I had no-one but me, until I met you. The first time I tangled with the First Order, I was 15, just started flying Class 5 shuttles, cleared my space hours limitations and had my licence. I answered an ad for new pilots for troop convoys. It all seemed legit, until the indoctrination started. First they take your identity, you become a number, you wear a uniform, you sign your freedom away, and you don't even know you're doing it. Pretty soon you're being told to stay at your station while the military do their jobs. You listen to the lectures, you take the pills and eat the food, you become part of the machine, just a tiny cog in a big machine. I did that for 3 years, until the Far Pass massacre."
Dase was shocked, Jez had never opened up to him about her experiences with the First Order before. He had heard of Far Pass, the formerly free planet had rebelled when the Order started taking their children. A large number of First Order troops and officers had died, but that was a fraction to the population who perished when the head of the Order had crushed the rebels, a planet-wide bombardment had decimated the surface, millions perished, the cities lay in ruins, the atmosphere a seething toxic cloud of burning organic and chemical matter.
"It wasn't the attack, I knew how ruthless their leader was, it was the children screaming, the sedatives weren't effective, there had been an error in the concentration. They knew what was happening, I couldn't do anything, I would have joined the dead that day if I had said anything." She didn't cry, Dase knew she had done that long ago. "When we returned to the base, I knew I couldn't continue. They're monsters, arrogant, convinced they are right. It's a flaw that can be exploited. There were four of us, we stole a shuttle, two of us got as far as the nearest trader station, but I was the only one who survived, and that only because of my gypsy family. I was hidden, smuggled off-station, went back to my old life older, wiser, but just as lonely." She stroked Mirea's hair "People like us, we don't go through official channels, we run, we hide, we stay under the radar."
"They won't catch us, we'll survive this" Dase caught her hand "If it means staying on the wrong side of the law, that's what we do, together."
"Yes, but if we're caught, they'll take her, we'll be separated. Dase, I survived them before, I can do it again. If it comes to it, take her and go, keep her safe."
"I won't leave without you Jez, it's together or not at all, remember our vows? And your grandmother said Don't Join, remember that."
"I can't forget, but you need to remember that too." She was interrupted by the com signal. "Someone heard us, Sonny, they heard."Jez got up and went to the com station. "It's a bounced signal, but it's a signal, someone is coming. 20 hours out, we have to get to the Calvo River station,"
"That's 50 klicks, we'll never make it with the children unless we steal a shuttle."Sonny looked at Jez, and we need a pilot familiar with shuttles" she looked at Dase "And a hacker to ghost our location" She watched their faces "I can take Mirea, we'll wait for you at the sub-drop, hopefully they will have searched that already." She held her arms out and Dase reluctantly handed over the sleeping girl.
Jez took Dase's hand and squeezed it "It all changes now. I'll deal with anything you can't talk your way out of. Come on"
She led the way to the shelter escape hatch. It led down into the city drainage system. The processing plant had been destroyed and the lack of pump pressure meant a fetid and unpleasant transit to the nearest outlet. Jez checked first "There's no-one, this whole section has been cleared." She led the way out, it was deserted, in the distance the staccato of gunfire could be heard and the big gunboats patrolled the skies, hunting defence positions.
They took precautions anyway, moving from cover to cover, the buildings around them silent and empty, more than a few burning and wrecked. Eventually they reached the transit station, a First Order shuttle sat abandoned and empty, it's occupants sprawled dead on the ground and the ramp. "Looks like someone got here first."Jez was cautious,"Maybe they're still around" ,but luck was on their side, there was no sign of life. Jez and Dase made their way inside. The dead pilot and an officer lay on the blood-soaked deck, clean head-shots had spared them carnage. Jez put her weapon down and sat in the pilot's seat "Still open channels, we won't need a relay. We need to ghost the big ships." Dase nodded and sat at the co-pilot station. He pulled out his smuggler grade data spike and carefully inserted it in the command module. The lights flickered as the illegal tech throttled the security system and the comm channel cleared, ready for input. Jez checked the status, "only one transponder, could be sticky, but there's always a work-around"
"Now what?" Dase fed information into the secure systems, the tracking of larger vessels would show only an officer's transit, and a lower grade officer, unlikely to be personally known to the higher authority.
"Now we make ourselves invisible, you put the officer's jacket on, I'll take the pilot. Hopefully no-one will look closely at the blood stains." Jez was grim, but it needed to be done. Sensors could only do so much, anyone looking in from outside had to "see" two uniformed persons at the controls. Jez got some information from the system on the assigned personnel, she might have to do some talking later.
20 minutes later they touched down at the sub-drop, a transit loading station that conveyed goods beneath the city. The sounds of combat were receding "They've finished the sweep from east to west, that means the River should be clear." Sonny had a com sweep, she had been listening in to First Order comms to find out where and when they might find trouble. They got the children, Sonny and her daughter Kisha, and their cousin Naila, all aboard. The children were silent, Sonny had impressed on them the need to keep quiet until danger was past. Mirea gazed at her mother, Jez had put her hair up under the pilot's cap – First Order pilots did not have long hair – and the tunic had blood stains on the side. "It's okay, baby, mumma's just playing dress-up" but Mirea kept close to her father and did not reply.
Jez sighed "This is tough on us all, but it has to be done." She checked all systems again, and set a course for Calvo River station. The journey was short, they were challenged once, but Jez talked her way out of it, saying they were sent to supervise the "mopping-up" operation at Calvo. The gunboat commander accepted her explanation, reminding her to get her secondary transponder fixed, then the bigger vessel accelerated past, heading back to the city.
The station was deserted, the big river boats scorched and sinking at their moorings. The amenity areas had been ransacked and all power was out. Sonny was able to make a meal from supplies she had bought with them. They had a another half a day to wait, so Dase left Mirea with the other children and he and Jez found a private place to be together, for what could be the final time. They both knew that any rogue vessel found entering or leaving the atmosphere during the "cleansing" would be a target and there was the remote possibility of someone in the command structure wondering why the shuttle hadn't returned to base.
"This really isn't the life I wanted for us" Dase confessed as they were putting their clothes back on."Not this, now, but before, back when we started, I wish I could have given you a more settled life."
"Settled? You forget my history. Besides, if I hadn't wanted it, I wouldn't be here. Don't look back, baby, you can't ever change it." She zipped up her jacket and tied her hair up again, tucking the loose strands under her cap. "We've had great times, and even if I only get to see you again on the other side, it won't take away the last six years." She kissed his cheek. "let's get back, I want to spend some time with Mirea before the fighting starts again. I put a contact link in your uploader, if you need a safe place anytime I'm not around, my family will help you."
"I don't deserve you." Dase held her close "I'll never love anyone the way I love you."
She smiled "Good, because if I find out you have, there will be big trouble." She joked and they went back to rejoin the others.
After another wait, there was a crackle on the comm reader, a code was transmitted and Sonny responded with the acceptable message.
Taz's voice crackled out of the unit "Thank the gods of all the religions. Listen, this will have to be the fastest rescue pick-up in history. I'll come in low over the water, be ready, I can only land for a few minutes before they get a visual, be ready on pier one." He cut off and they readied themselves. Mirea had been wary before, but now she clung to Jez as if her life depended on it, crying and begging her mother not to leave. Jez had to hand over her rifle to Dase while they walked to the end of the long docking pier, always alert for danger. Within minutes they could see fliers, two escort fighters chasing a bigger vessel.
"Hells, they saw him, he won't be able to land at all if they don't leave off." Jez had an idea, she untangled herself from her screaming daughter and started back toward the shuttle.
"Where are you going?" Dase called after her, now scared that she was going to do something stupid.
"I'll deal with this, remember what I told you. I love you, see you on the other side!" and she was gone. The noise of the approaching craft drowned out other shouts and screams of the children, then they heard the shuttle acceleration climb as it lifted off and headed toward the approaching fighters. Dase had his heart in his mouth, the shuttle had only defensive shields, no weapons, what was she going to do?
The shuttle was not as fast as the fighters, but by approaching at an angle, it caused them both to take evasive action, allowing precious moments for the smuggler's vessel to skim in to land on the end of the dock. Taz shouted for everyone to get on board but had to drag Dase and Mirea from their position watching the skies. "She won't survive, they'll get her" Dase couldn't function properly
Taz grabbed his arm "and if you don't get on that ship NOW, we'll all die and it will have been for nothing!"
Dase saw the logic of the argument and hurried aboard. Taz wasted no time and gunned the still-hot engines, the acceleration throwing all but the seated pilot to the floor. The smuggler's vessel was built for blockade running and had modified engines and enhanced stabilisers, but Dase could only watch the rear monitor as they streaked away from the dance of death played out above the river. Just as they broke out of the atmosphere, Dase saw a flash of an explosion and knew it was over. Jez was gone.
"Don't worry, she will be safe with us." The wizened old lady tousled Mirea's hair."You will be back soon?"
"A week at most, barring trouble" Dase squatted down and kissed Mirea's forhead " Be a good girl for your great-grandma, and if you can't be good, just don't get caught." She wrinkled her nose as if to say she would consider it. Never a chatty child, Mirea had not spoken for 6 weeks after her mother died, but a year on, she was more sombre, and had processed her loss well for a child her age. Dase had found work again, he wouldn't stay long in one place, he promised himself, he would always be ready to move on. This latest job would be a little longer than usual, but he determined he would always come back to his little girl. He stood up and stepped backward, waving his goodbyes in the solid knowledge that he would soon return.
DJ sighed, took off his hat and rubbed his thumb over the incised characters. So long ago, but as sharp as yesterday's sunrise, and as painful to his soul as his bloodshot eyes. He wondered what Mirea looked like now, she would be 25 tomorrow, he never forgot her birthday and hoped she remembered him, wherever she was. Even Maz Kanata, with her extensive contacts, had not been able to find Jez's grandmother. Space gypsies were close-mouthed and protected their own. He wondered for the thousandth time how he had offended the old lady. He hadn't asked them to protect him, only Mirea, and she had obviously decided the best way to do that was to disappear and take the child with her. Neighbours said she had packed up and gone in a day, no forwarding address, no hint of her intentions, and nothing left behind when he returned after the week away.
"Be yourself" he scoffed "No-one can take that away" well it was all he had left. Before he met Jez, he had never realised what alone really meant, now he lived it every day. There would never be another Jez, or Mirea. Don't join, join what? The land of the living, the world of normal, happy people. Stay away, it can't hurt you if you don't let it.
He pulled a gambling chip out of his pocket. Those kids on Canto Bight knew nothing about him. He had never shared the rebel ethos and these days he did business with both sides of the fight. He'd taken the money and gone on his way. The advice of his very first employer at the casino had been "Don't deal from the bottom or the top, slice it and you can deal from the middle of the pack" And he'd been doing that. Card-flipper, Jez had called him that. Sometimes you had to make choices on the turn of a card, he just hoped he'd made the right ones.