)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Outside the Kicking Nerf Cantina, Screed City, Next-1, 2nd Galactic Empire

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

"Because he was a dick, Happy." Priscilla Mayhew told her towering best friend.

Hapsleeca snarled a response as she watched the cranes loading the massive Lucrehulk in the distance. The Kazoookian vessel was so large it loomed over the buildings of Screed City, as well as the dozens of Imperial transports parked around it, at the military landing pads.

"I know. I know. But screw him. I'm twice the pilot he is. Hell, ten times with you by my side." Priscilla referred to their former commander of Bomber 27, now the property of the distant New Mandalorian Defense Force. Hapsleeca chuckled a barking laugh. "Dank ferric, Lieutenant Faraly deserved that busted beak I gave him. Nobody calls my girl a walking carpet."

Hapsleeca reached out a shaggy paw and ruffled Priscilla's hair. The two of them were off duty and taking in the sights of the booming Imperial city. Hapsleeca had donned her tribal bandoliers while Priscilla wore the only non-uniform pieces of clothing she owned; spacer's boots, dark blue leggings, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and a black vest. She had etched red piping up both sides of her leggings after admiring the look on several Imperial TIE pilots. She had been called cocky for doing so, but she was young and didn't care what others thought.

Tonight that conviction was aimed at the Imperial military. Mainly due to her and Hapsleeca's recent, yet short, service with the Imperial Navy. Priscilla had believed it would be more exciting. She had imagined Hapsleeca and her as TIE panel-mates fighting against the loathsome First Order, who had bombed and invaded Kazoook, and their Confederate allies. Instead, they were assigned secondary positions on a MegaFortress bomber and thrown away on what at the time appeared to be a suicide mission.

Hapsleeca grunted a question.

"Miss it? Bomber 27? That death trap smelled just like Faraly; like bird poodoo. The Mandalorians are more than welcome to keep her."

Her Wookiee companion snorted, causing Priscilla further personal inspection. "Stang it was fun to be up on our own. Even if Faraly was doing the flying. That's why we need to get our own ship, Happy. Then nobody can tell us what to do ever again." That was their shared dream. Kazoook, and perhaps the Empire itself, was not big enough for the two of them. Not when there was an entire Galaxy out there for them to explore.

Their best bet for achieving their dream of becoming pilots was the Empire. A tour as bomber crewmen should have led to TIE Flight School. But their former commander hadn't been too keen on Priscilla's broadcast during the Roblin Raid, fearing it might have given away their position. When he had become a jerk about it and gotten in Hapsleeca's face, Priscilla had punched out his lights. The Empire, not wanting to make an issue of it with their new Kazoookian allies, had dismissed the pair from the Imperial military and returned them to the Kazoookian Navy, ironically now serving under an Imperial Fleet Admiral's command.

So they had been returned to the Thalmussen. The Lucrehulk was one of two 3,170 meter behemoths that had traveled from the Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way. Their small army of Wookiee and human refugees were now situated in comfortable work camps on Nal Kuat; employed in repairing the Imperial Fleet. But the Empire wasn't just interested in their Kazoookian allies as a work force. The Thalmussen and her sister, the Kennedy, contained more hauling space than any starship in the Imperial Navy or its civilian counterpart; the Honorable East Empire Company. The two Lucrehulks had more cargo carrying capacity than any ship in the Confederacy of Earth Nations or the First Order as well. Their armor, weapons and shields may have been shit, but they could each carry a Legion of Stormtroopers, along with its accompanying Air and Armor units and their full complement of equipment. The Confederacy's Space Force needed at least three of their Magnificent transports to pull off the same feat.

After sitting out the recent battle at New Thyfeeria at Nal Kessel, the two ships had been dispatched here to Next-1 where they had been loading supplies for weeks in preparation for something big. Not only were the two Lucrehulks combat loaded for whatever operation the Fleet Admiral had in mind, but dozens of HEEC transports had also filled the spaceport to load supplies. To Priscilla, it seemed as if everything the Empire hadn't sent to the fleet at Nal Kuat had somehow ended up here. Mountains of supplies with everything from tibanna and coaxium to rations and thermal detonators were being loaded aboard the docked fleet of transports. The Empire and their Kazoookian friends looked like they were getting ready to throw a wrench in the CEN's plans somewhere along the Bloodstripe.

And Priscilla and Hapsleeca were going to miss out on all the fun; being the number five navigator and helmsmen aboard the lumbering Lucrehulks. From there, they'd be lucky to see a planet, let alone be part of an invasion of one.

Though she had only seen a handful of worlds since arriving in the Orion Spur, Next-1 was proving to be one of the most interesting. The Confederacy's Space Force had proven to have the power to take half of the Bloodstripe, but not the speed. Their slow hyperdrives had allowed millions to flee ahead of their invasion. Naturally, the Prime Chancellor had his ministers settle them where they would best serve the Imperial industrial war complex. Next-1 had two major cities, Screed and Nexus, and due to an influx of refugees the two metropolises had grown together in just over half a year. The City Guard units had little manpower to police it all, causing Next-1 to become akin to what her father would call the Wild West.

In the panicked weeks after Nal Kuat, the Third Naval District had moved on Next-1 with preemptive swiftness to seize whatever land it wanted or felt it needed to meet the emergency created by the dark-sided alliance formed between the First Order and the Confederacy of Earth Nations. The Imperial Navy and the HEEC had taken over all the empty land between Screed and Nexus, before having worked out the details with Next-1's governor, Moff Druken. Civilian officials were unaccustomed to being manhandled as if they were back in Palpatine's Empire, but the Empire had little time to spare the feelings of the bureaucrats. The Third Naval District decided that it must also have the river front in Screed City and quickly transformed it into a massive space port with dozens of repulsar cranes and loading docks. One hundred civilian families were told to be prepared to move out at fifty hours' notice. Along the river, the Navy absorbed the old Macander Heavy Ore facility and expanded the Screed City TIE Corps Station by plunking landfill along the shore.

Nexus City was home to teeming shipbuilding complexes owned by Rothana Heavy Engineering, Arakyd Industries and Sienar Fleet Systems. One of Rothana's plants was a kilometer long and was retooled to assemble AT-STs and AT-ATs, which were marched onto the HEEC transports waiting for them at the riverfront spaceport. Screed City and it's complex of offshore river islands was converted into a naval refueling depot, and pipelines ran up to blue fuel tanks being offloaded from tankers fresh from the fuel fields of Vaedor I, II and III. The huge factories and shipyards were surrounded by plasma fences ringed by razor-sharp death-wire and guarded by armed KX-series droids. Their daily rhythms were punctuated every eight hours by the shift change, when a multitude of alien and human life entered by one gate and another emerged on the opposite side. Ozone belching hover-buses discharged a full load at the first gate, then drove around and took on another. And so it went on. Twenty-five hours a day, five rotations a week, ten months an orbit, until the First Order and the CEN were crushed.

As with other wartime boomtowns, from the Galactic Civil War and the Clone Wars, it was a seller's market for labor. A job applicant who had been out of work terraforming under Moff Culter on Mars could be working a fusion-powered assembly line the following morning. Wage prospectors chasing credits could make double or triple what they had been making before the raid on Nal Kuat, and they crowded into the sector on nearly every freighter or rusty bucket of spacer bolts that set down on the planet. Beings crammed into makeshift shantytowns reminiscent of their first days settling on Mars.

The shipping crisis facing the Empire was to be alleviated by velocity. Or so said decrees from both the Prime Chancellor and Empress Yos. Many more ships were needed as quickly as they could be built and launched. Quality control and product lifespan were not important. Nor was economy. Pre-fabricated sections of hulls were brought into the yards, each marked with numbers indicating where they were to be fused together. Mon Cal welders, Gotarite electricians, Nimbanel pipefitters and Tognath lathe operators swarmed aboard. Rothana was no union buster, and their yards paid good wages.

Empress Yos declared from Palpatine Prime that this distended and restless workforce were Production Troopers in a noble and patriotic cause. Yet for all the hard work, loafing was widespread and it was organized. The HoloNews was smuggled into the yards and watched when the foremen were out of sight. In out-of-the-way corners of spaceships and machine shops, men and women played sabacc, threw holo-dice or exchanged gossip. Jawa look outs were posted at doors and airlocks, and coded signals warned of an approaching superintendent or security droid. The malingerers maintained that the front offices did not really care how hard they worked, because the yard would go on making credits hand over fist no matter how many ships they turned out.

For those old enough to remember the Old Empire, it was Corellia on the Orion.

Inside the riverfront's congested, neon-lit warren of machine shops, pipe shops, warehouses, riggers' lofts, tibanna depots, administrative buildings, launch ramps, low-grav piers and vacuum docks another force competed with the military and civilian authorities; the Underworld.

Coming from nearly crime-free Kazoook, the two friends were like babes in the woods when it came to the truth of living in the greater Galaxy.

The night time roadways of Screed City were full of off-duty industrial workers mingling with merchant marines from the HEEC and sailors from the Navy. The Field Police and city guard were hard pressed to monitor it all. Almost all of it was lit by dancing neon signs and advertisements which were crowded into every nook of the already overcrowded city. Thankfully, due to fuel rationing there was very little landspeeder and airspeeder traffic. Long lines stretched around the local holodrama theaters waiting for films with names like Edge of Dark-Side, Five Pyres to Plympto Blight, and Meet me on Palpatine Prime. Priscilla was disappointed that the release of Thirty Seconds over Confederate Center wasn't premiering until next week. Supposedly the famous Imperial actress, Katy Hothburn, played a Kazoookian pilot in Imperial service and Priscilla was curious how many liberties the holodrama companies took with her own story.

Hapsleeca was listening to a street corner HoloNews droid soliciting customers to listen to the latest news of a Mynockian sighting last night on Koodan when she nudged her friend and pointed at an approaching figure with a chirping chuckle. Priscilla rolled her eyes, "He is not my boyfriend. Besides he gets along better with your hairy shebs."

Everett Lucas saw them and came bounding through the crowd. The young sailor was dressed in a flannel shirt, blue jeans, leather boots and a strange hat with a wide brim. He waved eagerly to his friends as he approached. Priscilla remembered how odd it was to come across an actual Earthling in the Empire. Earthlings were what her parents' generation clung to as an identity. Priscilla was a Kazoookian. Even seeing Earth during the Roblin Raid moved her little. In her mind she was a Kazoookian, and that made Earthlings, and by extension Everett, a cousin. And at the moment, the only cousins she got along with were the ones hiding out with the Martian Christian Church.

The MCC had rapidly expanded after the Empire-Earth War, spreading the gospel of Christianity. They had gone head to head with the Jedi Order for several years until a spirit of tolerance developed between them. They were thick on the ground everywhere along the Bloodstripe Run except Waderae for obvious reasons. Founded by a small group of Earthlings that stayed behind when the slave army was returned to Earth, they had kids of their own. One of which was Everett Lucas, the grandson of the founder himself; Father George. After rumors started spreading of the persecutions the Confederacy was enacting against members of their faith in the captured territories, the Church had become some of the most loyal members of the Empire.

Everett hugged Priscilla and kissed her on the cheek. Hapsleeca wrapped the skinny deck crewman in her hairy arms and picked him off the ground. Everett grunted as she squeezed the air from him. When she set him down again he took off his hat and placed it on Hapsleeca's head. "Try this ten-gallon on for size, Happy."

Hapsleeca snarled her approval at her new white hat and thought it went well with her bandoliers. Priscilla translated for her towering friend. "Happy wants to know where this place is you were talking about aboard the Thalmussen. Half the ship is out on the town tonight."

"I'll show you girls. Man, you are not going to regret getting leave tonight." Everett said as he turned and led them down the crowded sidewalk.

"Ok, but it's like I told you on the ship. We're looking for more than drinks." Priscilla reminded.

"Getting you guys a ship of your own, right? It's going to be tough with all the civilian shipwrights shutting down production of private models for military hardware for the duration, but if there's one place to find something that might be up your alley, it's this place." Everett pointed to a large cantina ahead. Atop the marque was a holographic neon figure riding a nerf. They had nerfs on Kazoook, but they were of a smaller forest variety, and no one ever thought to ride one of them. Things were different here in the Empire, Priscilla reminded herself.

The place was called the Kicking Nerf Cantina. The large double swinging doors were guarded by a pair of hulking Herglic bouncers who eyed the crowd outside for trouble. In front of them stood a one-eyed Abyssin patting down everyone who entered and taking away their weapons. When they approached the cantina Priscilla was made to check her lucky DL-44 while Hapsleeca turned over her bowcaster. Priscilla got a feeling the bouncers wouldn't have looked too keenly on anyone refusing to surrender their blasters in a place like this.

As they stepped inside they were greeted by a crowded bar full of humans and aliens dressed in similar strange western attire to what Everett was wearing. Few of them wore anything that identified them as HEEC, Imperial Navy or whichever factory they worked for. The line at the bar was three deep as patrons in ten gallons ordered round after round of eblas or Menkooro whiskey. Tabac and Skywalker smoke filled the room and competed with the alluring smell of barbeque pouring from the cantina's kitchen.

On the main stage a mixed band of Octeroid, Selkath, Shawdo Ubb and Lacertilo musicians wailed away on their instruments. In their center was a five meter tall Dur Sabon who was performing miracles on a seven-string halliskat. As he played, the band's lead singer, a fiery female Patrolian, belted out a rapid-fire song about a Sith Lord who went down to Gelemeade. The dance floor in front of the band had been cleared by several lines of dancers all moving and spinning in step with one another as if they had practiced their moves before coming here tonight. Every one of them a colorful mix of denim, big hats and stomping boots.

Along one side of the bar was a flashing arcade of pin-ball machines, a practice BB-blaster shooting gallery and a ronto-shoe throwing pit. The highlight of the area was a massive mechanical nerf that bucked off any who paid to attempt to stay on for over a minute. Currently, it was being ridden by an alluring red Twi'lek in denim shorts that were cut so high they might as well have been a belt. The tail-head waved her ten-gallon to the cheers of the crowd.

As the singer switched to a song about having friends in the Outer Rim, Everett clapped his hands together. "You gals wait here. I'll get us some drinks. They've got a house drink here called the Scum and Villainy that's a real kick in the nuts."

"Can't wait." Priscilla agreed. Hapsleeca laughed as their friend left them. Priscilla noticed that there were several beings in the crowd eyeing or pointing at the tall Wookiee. Well, the Thalmussen and Kennedy had only been on Next-1 for a couple of days, perhaps it was their first time seeing a Wookiee since their so-called 'big jump'.

The place was crowded and the few tables to be had were all full of other patrons, laughing and drinking. It almost seemed as if the war was a billion parsecs away.

It took Everett nearly twenty minutes to return with four eblas and three shots. He handed two of the beers to Hapsleeca who downed the first one in a single swig. The Earthling had to shout to make himself heard over the ambient noise and music of the cantina. "You ladies are in luck."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Priscilla asked.

"Bartender told me something you might be interested in." Everett announced.

Priscilla peered toward the crowded bar. "The squid-faced one or the bug-eyed octopus girl?"

"The Quarren, not the Nautolan. Though god certainly blessed her with some heavenly curves. The other guy though, he's a part of the church. And he says there might be a way for you two to get what you're after."

Hapsleeca put a paw on the back of his neck and gave him a friendly reminder shake to get to the point. The Earthling chuckled. "Ok, Ok. There's a high stake card game in the back. The bartender says that ships get gambled away in there all the time. Anything from Luxury 3000 yachts and X4 gunships to smaller cloudjumpers, planet hoppers and blastboats. Maybe even freighters."

"Everything is getting pricey these days with the production switch to military gear. What's the buy in?" Priscilla asked, which caused Hapsleeca to growl an objection. "I know, Happy. But this is the best chance to achieve our dreams. We will just have to figure out this sabacc as we go."

"Two grand. Imperial credits only I imagine. Nobody is taking Kazoookian wupiupi. Not when they have to travel to another arm of the Milky Way to spend them." Everett said.

Priscilla looked to her Wookiee friend. "How much do we have in mustering-out pay still?" Hapsleeca grunted that they were carrying just a few credits over the buy in. If they were going to do this then they'd be going all in; figuratively and literally.

Figuring Hapsleeca had reported that they had enough funds, Everett grinned. "Wizard. Let me show you back."

They followed the western-dressed Imperial Earthling towards the rear of the cantina. A large Barbadelan bouncer eyed them suspiciously, but moved aside to let them pass. Down a long hall, past the freshers and the swinging doors to the kitchen, was a crowded room filled with three giant round tables. The band's version of I Walk the Line poured in from the front of the cantina. Nearly every space around the tables was filled with a wide menagerie of alien and near-human sentients. The players situated at seats around the table looked like a who's who of a Guard precinct's criminal line-up.

Two ladies held sway over the central table. A slick Duro in a leather bomber jacket, smoking a billowy skywalker joint. She was laughing as she stood and raked in the winnings of a large pot towards her own seat. "So how did you guys let me beat you on that one?"

Her companion sat in the seat next to her. She was a near-human, from a species that was unfamiliar to Priscilla, with floor-length multicolored hair and sideways nictating eyes that changed hues with every blink. She watched the other players like a snake. "There's no liars in this game, just players."

Seeing the pile of credits, aurodium coins and various gemstones in the pot, Priscilla knew her best chance was the main central table. Two players, a Dyplotoid and an Ardennian, had BOSS ship IDs on the table in front of them and the Duro's bomber jacket identified her as a possible private owner of a vessel as well. It was daunting that she appeared to be playing alongside the near-human woman, but Priscilla just saw them as two marks instead of one.

"Stay back." She told Hapsleeca, who took up a position along the back wall overlooking the table. Everett quickly became distracted talking with a pretty Zabrak at another table. Priscilla would be playing alone. There was one empty chair between a Crocin and a Hylobon player. "This seat taken?"

The Duro, leaning over the table across from the Kazoookian, looked up at her. Priscilla flashed her friendliest, disarming smile as the Duro sized her up. "Nobody's in the seat, it ain't taken, friend."

Priscilla sat down and laid down the two thousand credits Hapsleeca had given her. She smiled to the other players and then purposely mispronounced the name of the game to sound like a rube. "So this is sabacc?"

"Afraid not. You ever play Texas Hold 'Em?" The Duro inquired.

Priscilla forced herself not to grin. Poker had traveled to Kazoook in the hull of the Enterprise II. The Oz colonists had taught their Wookiee neighbors. Captain Vaspar and Priscilla's father had been absolute fiends for the game, and as a youngling she had spent many an evening watching them play. Yes, she had certainly heard of Texas Hold 'Em. "Some kind of card game I assume. Pretty sure I can learn the ins and outs as I go."

The Ugor dealer spoke through a vocoder in its Evo-suit. "Newcomer, you have the small blind."

Priscilla placed a fifty credit chit onto the table as the Ugor dealt each player two cards. The Duro stared at her from across the table with a cool, disarming smile. "Captain Rana."

"Priscilla Mayhew. Looks like you're having a good day." Priscilla referred to the pile of winnings in front of Rana.

The Duro captain held up a stack of chits and placed them in the pot. "I'm a lucky lady."

They were matched by an equal amount of chits from the near-human next to the Duro, who didn't bother introducing herself. Priscilla noticed something strange about her. Not only was her hair of various hues, but her fingernails seem to subtly change colors as well. Priscilla wondered if they were connected with the player's feelings like some kind of mood ring. She pretended not to notice them as Rana was clearly sizing her up. "Can I ask you a question, Captain Rana?"

Rana pretended to be bored and focused on a small vibroblade she spun through her fingers. "Anything, Pris."

"It's Priscilla but that's Ok. I heard a story about you; I was wondering if it was true."

Rana held out her drink to be refilled by a floating service droid. With her free hand she pointed at her chest. "Everything you've heard about me is true."

"Did you win your ship playing cards?"

"Oh, I've won a lot of things. I once won a sub-tropical moon off of Earth 6."

"Wow." Priscilla smiled at the Duro's swagger.

Rana glanced at her cards. "Turned out to be a real money pit."

"I'm impressed." Priscilla flattered her opponent. "I don't think I'd have the nerve to gamble with something I love as much as my ship."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What do you fly?"

"I'm chief pilot on the Thalmussen. That Lucrehulk is home to a lot of beings." Priscilla lied.

"You're a Kazoookian? Should have guessed by your hairy friend lurking around back there." Rana referred to Hapsleeca. "Course she's not really your ship. Belongs to the Empire now."

"Well, she's on loan for the war. She's still part of the Kazoookian Navy."

"Chief pilot you say. I know a guy who'd be interested in picking your brain."

"Sounds unpleasant. I'm sure you own a ship that's just as nice."

"Gets me where I'm going. Though I don't have to answer to as many bosses as you."

Priscilla laid down two sevens to match the one that had fallen in the flop and grinned. The aliens around the table made various exclamations of disgust or astonishment. "Beginner's luck."

"Well played." Rana threw away her cards and congratulated her. She clapped sarcastically as Priscilla pulled her winnings in.

As fast as the credits came in they quickly vanished as Rana and her near-human friend won the next four hands. Luckily Priscilla had crap hands and hadn't bid very high. By the fifth hand it was her and Rana facing off again as the other players folded.

Rana peeked at her cards behind her large pile of chits. "You must be kicking yourself for not walking out when you did." When she saw which cards she was holding she smiled. "Bad judgement. But don't you worry, girl. It will all be over soon."

Priscilla thought Rana was bluffing. The cocky smile was now long gone from her face. She palmed a pile of chits amounting to five hundred credits and started placing them in the center pot. Priscilla studied the ace, three and five in the flop with trepidation. Suddenly a small flash of color caught her eye. The Near-human's fingernails turned a low hue of green. Priscilla pulled the pile back her side. She had never let go of the chits. "Check."

Rana shook her head. "No check. You raised." And placed a thousand credits into the pot to raise again. Priscilla hid her astonishment. She had picked up nearly every players' tell at the table but the Duro's, and now she thought she was onto something.

Priscilla picked up her cards and flipped them over, revealing another ace and five. "I'm laying these down on the check. Top two pair. It's a monster hand, but I'm laying that down cause you've got a two four and I'm not drawing against a mad hand."

Rana studied her for a few seconds, trying to deduce what had just happened. Priscilla's eye twitched for just a split second on the Near-human's fingernails. "Why is that a monster? You should have paid me off on that." Then with a flash of anger as she calculated that she had been made, "Why the fierfek did you lay that down?"

Priscilla just shrugged as Rana, dumbfounded, looked again at her unrevealed cards. Suddenly it all clicked. She turned to her near-human friend. "Echuta, Ashlei, go away."

Ashlei collected her meager winnings and stood up. "I'm going to tell the boss before you do anything stoopa."

Priscilla snickered. "Not the best way to treat your friend."

Rana studied Priscilla. "Miss son of a bishwag. Let's play some cards."

Priscilla went to work. She remembered what Captain Vaspar had told her long ago. The first rule of poker was, if you spot a person's tell, you don't say a single word. She'd finally spotted Captain Duro's. Her friend was counting cards and flashing the count to her friend, and Priscilla had figured out the simple code. Now without Ashlei around it was going to come down to Rana's skill versus Priscilla's. Usually Priscilla would have let the Duro go on reading her friend's signals until she was dead broke, but Priscilla didn't have that kind of patience, and she had to be back on the Thalmussen by morning. Not even a cool Duro spacer was immune to getting rattled.

"Kid, you've got Falleen blood. Can't get rid of you." Rana said as the Ugor dealt the next hand, delivering an eight and nine of spades to Priscilla.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll double the blind." She tossed a few chits onto the table.

Rana matched her by flicking her ante high in the air to land in the pot. "Alright, I call."

The Ugor laid down an astonishing six of diamonds, seven of clubs and ten of hearts. Priscilla pretended not to look excited. "Check."

Rana stared at her for almost thirty seconds. The crowd around the table shuffled in anticipation. Finally the Duro held up a large stack of chits and sprinkled them across the table. "Two grand."

Priscilla picked up an equal stack and carefully placed it in the center. "Ok, I call the two grand. I'll gamble. Also don't splash the pot."

"You're on a draw, Pris. Go away. This one is not for you." Rana shook a finger and growled at the Kazoookian. "And in this cantina I will splash the pot whenever the fierfek I please."

Priscilla held up her hands to suggest it didn't bother her. "Ok."

The Ugor laid down a two of clubs for the turn. Priscilla sighed. "I'm going to check that."

Rana nodded and grabbed another stack, which she proceeded to sprinkle into the pot once again. "That's right, big girl. Out in the Orion for the first time. Getting her pot splashed."

Priscilla's eyes narrowed. "That's five grand. Ok, I'm going to call you or I won't respect myself in the morning."

"Respect will be all you have left in the morning." Captain Rana warned. "Last card coming."

All the other players had folded by now, leaving the two of them to face the river card alone. The Ugor slowly laid down an ace of spades. Priscilla gave a slight wince which she tried to conceal. She knew Rana had seen it. "Check."

Rana looked at her with insecure sympathy. "It hurts doesn't it?" She held up both of her hands towards the dealer's cards and shook them. "You can't believe what fell. All your dreams, whump." Her hands fell to the table. "Missed. Hopes down the fierfeking drain. That ace could not have helped you." The Duro picked up one stack after another and sprinkled them into the growing pot until they were all gone. "I bet it all."

Priscilla sighed and pushed her entire pile of chits into the center of the table. "I'll match you, but you'll have to sweeten the pot. How about you throw in your BOSS tags on that ship of yours?"

"You take my ship and your self respect will be the last thing you lose." Rana took out the tags and flung them high into the air. Just as they arced down towards the pot a meaty hand snatched them from the air.

Priscilla looked up to see the largest Gran she had ever seen holding the tags. His three eyes glared down at her. The near-human Ashlei stood next to him along with a deadly looking Theelin woman wearing a grappling boa around her shoulders. Behind them stood another near-human woman of Ashlei's species and a hulking Trandoshan goon enforcer.

"I'm afraid the Agen's Light is not Captain Rana's to gamble." The Gran announced.

Everett and Hapsleeca were suddenly at Priscilla's side. Everett leaned down and whispered in Priscilla's ear. "Don't push it. Do you have any idea who that is?"

"Why don't you tell her." The Gran instructed the Earthling.

"Priscilla, that's Brakatak the Bull. The Daimyo of the Gran Kajidic."

"Kajidic?"

"He's the Underlord of the Underworld. We're surrounded by his men."

Priscilla smiled up at the powerful mob boss. She realized he could probably have her killed with a snap of his fingers, but she was curious just how far she could push it. "I take it this Agen's Light is yours? Is she fast?"

The big Gran laughed. "You haven't heard of the Agen's Light? She's the ship that pulled Moff Hinter off of Mars from under the nose of Space Force. Captain Rana has been running circles around the Imperial Navy for twenty years in that ship. She's the best smuggling ship on the Bloodstripe Run so of course she belongs to me."

"Well I'm afraid, with all respect, my Lord, that a bet is a bet." Priscilla didn't back down, even when she should have.

Brakatak the Bull scowled. "That may be, but you're a Kazoookian, are you not?"

"Yes, sir. Born and raised in the Sagittarius."

"Your chits are not enough to check the price of my ship. If you want to match you've got to add something to sweeten the pot." Brakatak told her as he dangled the BOSS tags over the center of the table.

"I don't know what you could mean. I've put everything I own out in the pot."

"You're the chief pilot on the Thalmussen. Certainly you're aware of the Kazoookian Omega contingency that you enacted when you entered Imperial space." Brakatak addressed the growing crowd. "You see, the Kazoookians entrusted the route back to their home world to a certain Wookiee for protection so the Empire couldn't find their beloved Kazoook. Now that route is certainly going to be opened up once the war is over. Echuta, the Senate is even going to send a Jedi ambassador to negotiate a permanent alliance with them soon. But for now, whoever knows that path has ownership of the potentially richest smuggling route in the Milky Way. If you want to match the Agen's Light, then I'm going to simply need the name of the Wookiee with the Omega coordinates." Brakatak explained.

Hapleeca barked that they couldn't betray Kazoook like that. Priscilla remembered their arrival in in the Orion Spur when they were surrounded and at the mercy of the Imperial Navy. The Lucrehulk captains had enacted Protocol Omega, entrusting all of the navigation data they had collected to Commander Wrroloch. If she gave Brakatak his name then the crime syndicates would be smuggling spice to Kazoook within months. More than that, they'd have access and control of the Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way long before either the Empire or Kazoook could stop them.

"You might want to remind your fuzzball friend of what you just committed to, that a bet is a bet." Brakatak told her.

But she knew something Hapsleeca and Brakatak didn't know. She looked across to Captain Rana. "You're right, Captain. The ace didn't help me." She slapped her cards down on the table. "I flopped the nut straight."

Somehow Rana's wide Duro eyes went even wider in disbelief. Brakatak scowled at the outcome. Rana stood up and stared at the cards in front of the Ugor before screaming. "Hutt fierfeker! You Sagittarian scum!"

"That is it." Brakatak announced.

"What the fierfek you talking about, Bull? Take her out." The large Trandoshan standing alongside the Gran asked. The crowd in the gambling den certainly expected something bad was about to fall upon Priscilla and her friends. The Kazoookian was having the same bad feeling.

"No. No. Not tonight." Brakatak said.

Rana was still furious. "This son of bishwag all night, with 'check', 'check', 'check'. She trapped me!"

"Well you feeling satisfied now, Captain? Because I can go about busting you up all night." Priscilla replied, causing red to flash across the Duro's blue skin. The Trandoshan and Theelin enforcers stepped menacingly to the edge of the table.

Brakatak raised a hand. He must have known if something bad happened to someone who won in his establishment that no one would ever gamble there again. "No. No. She beat you. Straight up. The ship is yours."

The Trandoshan lifted the table up a full meter on one side before letting it slam down again, sending the chits and cards skittering across the table top. "I won't fly under a Kazoookian pup. And her Wookiee pet."

"Ah, that's right, my dear." Brakatak chuckled. "You may have won the Agen's Light, but there is still the matter of her current crew."

"Happy and I are all the crew we need." Priscilla assured the crime lord.

"I'm afraid Captain Rana and Ashlei have been living aboard that ship for years. And they were just joined by their new crewman-bodyguard, Wailin the 'Killer Lizard' here. He's newly paroled from Nal Kessel you see, and he's grown mighty fond of his new place and its absence of security droids." Brakatak explained.

"Well then he'll just have to get used to somewhere else. Sorry, mate. Not my problem, but Wookiees and scaly lizards don't mix well." Priscilla said.

"That's where you're wrong, princess." Brakatak said. "They've got squatter's rights, and if you want them gone. Well you're going to have to evict them yourselves."

"You're besssst fighter against me. Lossser takes a hike." Wailin hissed.

Pricilla looked up to Hapsleeca who gave a slight nod before turning back to the Killer Lizard. "You're on."

The combatants were quickly surrounded by the crowd who ushered them into the main hall where space was cleared. Everett stayed behind to gather the winnings while Priscilla hyped up Hapsleeca. She took a place beside Brakatak and the Theelin woman, who clung to the crime boss like she was his girlfriend.

The crowd was frothing at the mouth as they cleared the dance floor. More patrons howled down from the balcony rails on the second floor overlooking the stage. The band immediately went into a cover of Queen's iconic We Will Rock You.

Hapsleeca and Wailin squared off across the dance floor. Wailin pumped his arms up to the crowd to get them to cheer for him. Happy never took her eyes off the Trandoshan. Even though the Kazoookian Wookiees had been away from the Home Galaxy for over half a millennia, their myths and legends were filled with tales of vile and evil Trandoshan hunters attacking their tribes. For Hapsleeca this was ancestrally personal. She cracked her neck side to side as she readied herself for the battle to come.

Wailin turned, took a hit from a nearby gruu-pipe and glared. Wookiees were the penultimate prey sentient for his kind. A target that had been denied him for over twenty-five years since arriving here after the 'big jump'. His hunter senses were hyperactive on the edge of combat. He flexed his muscles to intimidate Hapsleeca. It didn't work, but he didn't know that.

Hapsleeca was the first to make a move. With a tribal howl she charged across the thirty meters separating her from Wailin. The Trandoshan grabbed a chair from behind him and hurled it at the approaching Wookiee. Hapsleeca crashed right through the tossed furniture without pausing a beat. Its impact shattered the chair, sending splinters in every direction.

A heartbeat later, she was throwing a vicious right cross, which Wailin barely dodged. The hairy paw missed his scaly face by mere millimeters as he ducked to his left.

But as he jumped back to counter, Hapsleeca caught him with her left forearm across the lizard's midsection. The blow knocked him off his feet. But he was caught in the wind up of the Wookiee's arm and as she pitched forward she hurled the Trandoshan bully backwards. He flew back several meters before crashing through a table and obliterating a corner booth.

He snarled as he leapt to his feet. The two combatants grappled in the center of the dance floor, trading blow for blow. The crowd roared. It was anyone's guess who would come out on top.

Wailin tried to sneak in a left hook. Hapsleeca was too fast for him and locked up the strike with her right. Momentarily locked together she delivered a fierce head butt directly to the lizard's nose, sending him staggering back in pain.

He responded with a blow from a right cross that connected with Hapsleeca's jaw and sent her spinning around.

Priscilla had no idea how many strikes were landed by either of the combatants. Blood and sweat spilled across the dance floor as they beat upon each other. Finally Hapsleeca grappled the lizard and flung him into another table, where he sat on the floor for several seconds panting to regain his breath.

Hapsleeca turned her back to Wailin, swaggered to the bar where there was a waiting shot of Gran Corazon, and downed it in a single swallow. Instead of slamming the glass back on the bar she hurled it behind her. Wailin ducked as the glass projectile smashed into the wall next to his head. Hapsleeca snarled something that only Priscilla understood as, "Scaly little bitch."

Wailin grit his fangs and climbed to his feet again. This fight wasn't over. Hapsleeca turned and pounded her hairy fists together to the cheers of the mob. She walked over to a nearby Auto-Pool table and with a war-cry howl she flipped it into the air several meters. As it came back down again she delivered a heavy blow with her right arm that sent the entire table sailing like a proton torpedo.

The massive piece of gaming furniture slammed into Wailin and crushed him against the wall. Hapsleeca charged across the room and pressed herself against the upright table to pin her opponent.

Suddenly, a glowing red blade pierced the felt-topped cover, narrowly missing Hapsleeca's neck. Her eyes popped wide in surprise as the blade retracted and then pierced the table top again near Happy's midsection.

"That bastard is cheating." Priscilla yelled to Brakatak who merely shrugged. Nobody had said that there would be no weapons allowed, and whose fault was it if you didn't suspect a Trandoshan of having at least one hidden vibroblade?

In and out the blade stabbed and slashed from the underside of the table, causing Hapsleeca to jump back, lest she be hit by it. She had her fists up and at the ready when the table was finally cut in half and Wailin emerged from its wreckage.

Somebody threw Hapsleeca a pair of armored gloves. "Here Wook, use these and pound that kriffing lizard."

Happy only had time to don one of the gauntlets before Wailin was on her. Now that he had exposed his hidden vibroblade he wasn't afraid to show it off. He slashed up and down in wide arcs that Hapsleeca barely blocked as she was driven backwards across the dance floor. Now that weapons were involved the crowd was nearing madness levels of enthusiasm for the fight.

Wailin bit the blade of his vibroblade into Hapsleeca's gauntlet. As the Wookiee fought to keep the blade from driving any deeper the Trandoshan delivered a series of heavy blows from his left fist. Hapsleeca staggered back and then lurched wildly with her right fist. Wailin caught it. With a grin he stabbed upwards. The vibroblade stabbed through the glove, grazing and burning Happy's arm before emerging from the other side. With a downward slash he tore the defense from her hand causing the Wookiee to fall to the floor.

Wailin laughed as he grabbed her by the shoulders and delivered a knee to Happy's face. Then, using the vibroblade's hilt as a pair of brass knuckles he delivered an uppercut that lifted Hapsleeca back to her feet. She spun around, shuffled several steps towards Priscilla and collapsed onto the floor.

Wailin didn't pursue to finish her off. Instead he spun around and pumped his arms again to the cheers of the crowd. Someone handed him the gruu-pipe again and he took several puffs off of it to recover his energy.

Hapsleeca's eyes were barely open when Priscilla knelt down in front of her. "Well your guard needs work, Happy." Hapsleeca chuckled once. "I wish I could say we could just walk away from this, but I'd be lying. This is our dream, Happy. I need you. You need this. This is for us. So what do you say?"

Hapsleeca grit her teeth and put her arms out at her sides. With a painful grunt she pushed herself off the floor again. As her head lifted up she spit out a bloody tooth at Priscilla's feet. "That's my girl."

Hapsleeca stood and turned towards the Trandoshan. She put her thumb to one side of her nose and shot out a bloody snot-rocket. As she put her fists up into a fighting pose Wailin growled in frustration that she hadn't thrown in the towel.

The Trandoshan ignited his vibroblade and screamed. The two fighters charged one another from across the dance floor. The crowds' cheers were silenced as they all watched in stunned silence.

Hapsleeca ducked the vibroblade and landed a solid right hook on Wailin's face. He responded with a left jab to hers. Their guards dropped and they exchanged blow after blow to each other's mugs. Fur, scales, blood, fangs, sweat and tears went flying from every heavy impact.

Finally gaining space, Wailin leapt high in the air, nearly two meters higher than Hapsleeca stood. He screamed as he held his vibroblade above his head. With his own falling momentum he brought the weapon down towards the Wookiee's defenseless head in a killing stroke.

But Hapsleeca was ready for it. She sidestepped the blade and grabbed the Trandoshan by the belts across his chest. His falling momentum was arrested as she held him above her head. His eyes met hers in shock as she had so effortlessly avoided his finishing move.

She hurled him backwards with her powerful right arm. But at the same time grabbed the Lizard's sword arm firmly in her left. With a mighty tearing sound the flesh was ripped from the bone as Hapsleeca rent Wailin's arm from his body, sending a spray of blood and gore across the dance floor.

He landed on his feet before her in time for her to land a stunning uppercut to his chin. She grabbed him by the collar and belt with both hands. Then with a mighty swirl she spun the Trandoshan around several times before launching him across the cantina.

Wailin obliterated three tables and his unconscious body blew them apart like a battering ram. He didn't stop until he impacted, upside down, with the cantina's jukebox.

The music stopped and the watching crowd came alive with cheers for Hapsleeca's overwhelming victory come back. Beings slapped Priscilla on the back in congratulations for her friend's victory.

Priscilla ran forward and hugged her friend. Hapsleeca, though wincing in pain, picked up her best friend from the floor and shook her in happiness.

Brakatak and his escort sidled up to the two joyous Kazoookians. "Congratulations, Captain Mayhew. The Agen's Light is yours. I will have my crew remove their belongings this morning."

"Thank you, um . . . Daimyo?" Priscilla didn't know what to address the crime lord as.

"Call me Bull. Everyone does." Brakatak smiled graciously. "Oh and one more thing."

"Yes, Bull." Priscilla and Hapsleeca both said together.

"You're crazy if you think I'm losing the best smuggling ship in the Empire. Both of you work for me now."

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Up Next- This story goes dark