Chapter 9 - Pure Sabaac

Ben stared at his cards, The Queen of Air and Darkness and Endurance, and ran his fingers through his already tousled hair, wondering what he was still doing here. He had not intended to stay this long, just long enough to win his lodgings for the next few time-parts. Lady Luck was smiling on him tonight though; he had won a few hand pots. The teasing sensation of winning and a feeling of fortune in his stomach urged him on.

Ben put both of his cards into the random field generator and watched as the other five players did the same. The back of the cards rippled. Carefully, though subtly, Ben looked for any signs on his competitors faces as to what new cards they had picked up. The only sign he saw came from the Bothan, a rippling of creamy white fur indicating glee, though he had been bluffing all night. For the last hour or so, the hands had been growing larger--disturbingly large--and Ben was tapping his resources to the maximum, putting all his winnings from the night in to cover the bets. As a result, the sabaac pot now contained just over a million credits, more then Ben had ever seen, or even dreamed of seeing. He swallowed hard, his throat going dry. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck and collect against his shirt collar.

The robotic dealer finally called for the cards to be revealed, and the Bothan quickly laid down a positive twenty-two, causing the other two players to throw down their cards in disgust, one bombing out and the other with a score of negative fifteen.

"Show your cards please, sir," wheezed the ancient dealer droid at Ben. With a grimace, hands sweaty, Ben slid his cards back out of the randomiser and picked them up slowly, a grin appeared on his face stretching from ear to ear and as he turned them around to reveal to his opponents a score of positive twenty-three. Pure Sabaac.

***

"God-dammit, Sean! Where's the fucking backup?" Captain Pierce bellowed at his radioman. What was supposed to be a simple, routine bank-robbery apprehension was quickly turning into a rout, the thieves did not seemed inclined to actually escape the bank. On the contrary, they seemed content to hold the Fast Response Team down with a steady stream of fire from the windows of the upper-level rooms where they were holding the bank executives hostage. Now Pierce and his team were pinned down behind their vehicles, sneaking return fire as they waited, sweating, for the arrival of their backup.

"Cap', aerial backup is coming, ETA two minutes!" Pierce gave a thumbs up to Sean, and, realising that the thieves had stopped firing, ordered half of his squad forward into the bank as the rest laid down cover fire.

***

"The FRT's aerial support is coming boss," called one of the thieves.

"Good. Is the energy blaster ready, Tac?"

"Powering up now. It'll be ready before they get here!" came the gleeful reply.

Common heist wisdom dictated that one pull off the job and flee as quickly as possible before the authorities arrive, but the downside of common wisdom was the Aerial Response Craft. After disgorging more agents to assist the eight man ground team, the ARC was then able to follow offenders, tracking them to their final destination which made a clean getaway near impossible.
The Fast Response Team's ARC came into view, cruising down between the high rise buildings, Tac, using the scope on the new blaster, sighted for the cockpit, where he could see the face of the pilot behind the bulletproof canopy. Squeezing off a flurry of shots, Tac watched with excitement as the canopy was pierced like a balloon and the pilot slumped dead, sending the craft careening wildly out of control with smoke billowing from the engines.

***

"Roost, this is Bird One, pilot KIA, unknown source, controls unresponsive, we're goin' in hot!"

The radioman's voice was laced with fear as he radioed in what was happening, his training taking over as he froze mentally.

Realising there was nothing he could do to prevent the ARC from crashing, he tightened his restraints and started praying.

***

"Sean, what the hell happened? Those things are supposed to be bullet proof!" barked Pierce furiously.

Sean frowned, puzzled about what he had just seen.

"Direct hit, sir. Pierced the canopy somehow, took out the pilot, and hit something in the engine by the look of that smoke. It looks like it's going to crash into that building on the corner of the next block," said Sean pointing down the street. "Hey, Flash," called Sean to a big burly man with red greaves, "any of your toys do that?"

As the demolitions and entry expert, Flash had access to some of the latest and greatest explosive and demolition tools. He was quite proud of his prowess and boasted that if it could be locked, he could get into it. It wasn't the safest of specialties within the law enforcement profession, and Flash had no index finger on his left hand to prove it.

"Sean, I ain't never seen nuthin' like that man, " said Flash irritated. Someone had a better toy then him and he didn't like it.

***

A scarred and disfigured man stood chuckling to himself as he watched the smoking ARC erupt into flames as it crashed, sending a plume of flame and smoke into the air as debris rained down on the road below.

"You've outdone yourself, Tac," he said with satisfaction, clapping him on the shoulder. Turning to the other thieves he barked out the evacuation order.

"Let's get moving! Kill the hostages and bring the money."

***

Pierce and the squad ran towards the crash site, Sean calling in what had happened as they rushed to try and save any survivors. Arriving, they found the ARC landing ramp jammed into place, with flames licking out from the engine cowling. Moving forward, Pierce found only dead bodies, and ordered his men back from the wreckage. There was nothing they could do. As he bent down to check one of the bodies, Pierce noticed one body with Sabaac chips in one hand. Stooping down a little closer, he saw the cards scattered on the floor--pure Sabaac.