Gambler's Paradise

Posted on Sun Sep 15th, 2024 @ 2:29pm by Chief Comms Rivek & Chief Helmsman Kalahaeia t'Leiya

Mission: Shackles
Location: A port south of nowhere
2812 words - 5.6 OF Standard Post Measure

Kali swept the slips of gold-pressed latinum the off the gaming table into her hand, then stuffed it down into one of the interior pockets built into her shirt. Might as quit while she was decently ahead, though she could feel the annoyed eyes of the gaming head on her as she walked away over to the bar and slid onto a stool.

"Warbird of Paradise." Kali grinned at the bartender before he turned away to make the drink, aware that the marriage of pineapple juice, coconut rum, and Romulan ale was a drink he probably wasn't used to seeing any vulcanoids order - it tended to be more a way for species with a flimsier tolerance to the stuff to imbibe. You really couldn't beat the taste though.

Rivek sat at the open stool. He watched as the bartender mixed a light blue concoction and slid it to the woman beside him. The bartender acknowledged Rivek with a nod. It had been a while since he had been out, and this was his small act of adventure for the day. "A Quarter-moon, please." Synthehol, often seen as a weak drink, was his choice. But Rivek wasn't sure how long he was going to be out.

"Romulan ale." He coined the drink by the smell. He looked down at her pockets, which protruded out in cubic shapes. "'Perfect drink for celebration."

"That? Celebration? Nah. Just keeping my hand in, really. Small stakes." She shrugged her shoulders and her eyebrows up-and-down simultaneously. "You don't practice most skills; you'll eventually get rustier at them."

Rivek studied her momentarily, with a hint of a smile. "I suppose that's true for many things," he said, glancing at her pockets again. "A skill like that... must come in handy often." He thought back on his days when he would extort some of the slimy businessmen on Jerichon. Most of the money was siphoned to reputable services that helped the less-fortunate. Though, Rivek always deemed it appropriate to take a "hacker's tax."

His thought was interrupted by the bartender with a pale, almost luminescent drink, in his hand. Rivek continued after taking a sip of the bitter drink. "So, what's the next move for someone who's keeping their skills sharp? Another game, or just enjoying the night?"

"I dunno. Depends on the rest of the clientele, really - I'm banned from a decent portion of the bars and casinos in this sector, but I really have no problem with getting banned from a few more if it's necessary to make a point..." She said this last with her voice raised just-so directionally to make a deliberate point and warning to an idiot she could see out of the corner of her eye was getting far too close to her and reaching out a grubby hand to try an ill-advised grab at her ass; apparently he was invested in keeping said hand, though, as it abruptly withdrew with the statement, followed shortly thereafter by the man himself stumbling away. "You'd think one of these days these morons who've spent enough time in this area of space would've all learned 'don't try and grope the Romulan women' is a good self-preservation tactic, but apparently not." Kali rolled her eyes, a thoroughly human gesture that she'd been told before looked...unusual...beneath the upswept eyebrows.

Rivek chuckled softly. He nodded, impressed with Kali's ability to handle herself. "You'd think survival instincts would be a bit sharper out here, but some folks just never learn." He took another sip of his Quarter-moon, savoring the mild burn of the synthehol. He glanced around the bar, observing the other patrons who were in various states of soberness. "You seem to have a knack for spotting opportunities. Anything catching your eye tonight? Besides fending off idiots, of course."

"The galaxy is made of electrons, protons, neutrons, and most abundantly yeah, morons. But as for the rest...no, not really." In point of fact; the more interesting of Kali's planetside endeavors of the day had come earlier, when she'd visited a few local information brokers for a handful of inquiries. "If we were going to be in orbit longer I'd consider a couple of tournaments coming up, but." She shrugged again; downing the last of the cocktail and following it with a rapid succession of the three shot glasses the bartender had slid her a moment ago lined up next to it.

"Oh shit," Rivek said under his breath. He figured he might as well join the festivities. He finished his Quarter-moon and waved down the bartender to get him something real and stiff. "I've never been here before," said Rivek. "But I had a few... friends who operated out of here. At least, as far as I know. They probably used a shell company to hide their true location." He took a deep drink of the one the bartender handed him. He let out a sharp sigh. "But, gotta move money somehow."

"The 'moving money' I prefer is to take my opponent's money and 'move it' into my pocket." Kali laughed. "But I admit I have a fondness for picking targets that have been cheating people. Certain satisfaction in getting revenge on them for their victims if I win; but also in knowing how much they undoubtedly hate knowing they tried to cook the books on things and still lost at that point." She left unsaid the point that there were still a few rackets even she wouldn't try deliberately crossing; chief among them the Orion Syndicate; who unlike various petty thugs and goons, or overgrown greedy sets of Ferengi ears, tended to be both skilled, lethal, and successful in eliminating those who did so.

Rivek chuckled and shook his head. "There's definitely a certain poetry in that. Taking down those who cheat others, using their own games against them... it has a nice ring to it." He swirled his drink, the amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. "Everyone's got a hustle, but the ones who prey on the vulnerable... they deserve what's coming to them," he said. "You must have some interesting stories from your endeavors."

"Depends on what one considers 'interesting', I suppose. Lots of fighting with idiots who didn't take kindly to losing; or who tried to attack me; or who tried to rob me or wouldn't take 'no' for an answer after hitting on me." Kali didn't mention the few more dire situations she'd found herself in during that time, like the one where she'd been grabbed by some hired goons probably planning to turn her over to the Tal'Shiar for money, and had only gotten out of it by using her aunt's device to hack the lock on the makeshift cell said goons had stuffed her in. "Occasionally I'd actually get hired by bars and casinos to see if I could spot anyone cheating them; can't say I recommend getting jumped by three angry Nausicaans who don't like that you busted their scheme." Since Nausicaans were at least as strong as she was and significantly larger; if she hadn't been faster than they were Kali was pretty sure she'd be dead instead of them...well, one of them; the other two had fled after she stabbed the first one. "So if everyone has a hustle, what's yours, then?"

"I wouldn't take a Nausicaan in a fight if they were unarmed and I had a shotgun," Rivek stated. He felt the last burn of his drink, waving to the bartender for another. "Obviously, I wouldn't put up much of a fight. Even when I was Jerichon Military, I relied heavily on surprise attacks and favorable odds. Same thing when I joined my mother's business. But after that, I found something that packs just as much punch as a phaser burn—information." The other drink slid across the bar. He scooped it without much of a look at it. He was trying to appear badass to a certified badass. "Information is a multi-million dollar business."

Kali nodded, not disputing that statement in the slightest; and one of the former fighter pilot's hands shot out to grab one of her now empty shot glasses and transfer it to her other hand without even having to glance at it in a toss that displayed both speed and unerring accuracy before setting it down again in only slightly more time than it might take many people to blink. Vulcanoids were generally faster on average than humans were, but the display was still, she knew, on another level regardless, given the number of people who'd been impressed with it or similar during her short stint in the Republic; and served without words as to an explanation of exactly how someone smaller and weaker than a Nausicaan had managed to best even one in a fight.

Rivek realized that he was not in the same league. "You must be a hell of a pilot, with that amount of precision." He downed the rest of his drink. "You fight, you're a card shark. You must have quite the resume. Is there anything that you can't do?"

"...Avoid fucking up my own life." Kali sighed. "I'm possibly the embodiment of the phrase 'I only know how to go too far'; which is possibly about the only thing both my family and my former COs would agree on." One eyebrow quirked up. "I'm surprised if you haven't done some..research...on the rest of the crew?" One corner of her mouth turned up slightly for a fleeting moment. "Though I also wouldn't be surprised if you didn't advertise that you had." She shrugged her shoulders and eyebrows up-and-down.

"I'm trying to reform," Rivek said with a creeping grin. Truth is, he has contemplated unlocking records for the other crewmembers. His curiosity was insatiable. But it was a slippery slope. What if he found out something despicable? Would he be able to work alongside them still? "Any research I've done has all been public record." He pulled out a miniature datapad from his pocket and waved it slightly. "I also don't make it a habit of looking up people I trust."

Kali smirked and shrugged the eyebrows again. "Among some - " she tapped one ear point with a grin " - looking up people and doing the research, public records or otherwise, is an expected part of the process - along with other things - of beginning to trust them."

"I'm trying not to fall back into old habits," Rivek said while taking a steep sip. "I've been given a new start. I'm sure you're familiar with what I used to do for a living. I got caught in it, and now I have to live with those consequences." I look around the bar. "I can't even come to a place like this without thinking someone is out to kill me. But when it comes to trust, this has been the hardest test to see if I'm even capable of it."

"Ah well; that's another area where different species have different concepts of what it even means. As for living with consequences...I shattered the noses and cheekbones of a few admirals; so I can't exactly talk there." Notably absent from Kali's statement however was any regrets about having done so.

"I've always thought admirals tend to have a streak of morality in them," Rivek remarked. "At least, most of them do." The bartender, without being asked, slid another drink his way. This one was stronger, and Rivek could already feel it taking hold. He scanned the bar once more, noticing a patron at a nearby table locking eyes with him. Rivek turned back to Kali. "How long has that guy been staring at me?"

"Not long. About thirty seconds." Kali's voice dropped to a range that many species would've had trouble hearing over the din of the place even nearby them, though it was a halfway decent measure at best as security went: Vulcanoids were not the only creatures in the universe with exceptional hearing (Caitians could put them to shame easily for example), and even those with middling ears like humans could after all cheat with a wide variety of available tech. She slid a decent portion of her earlier winnings - more than enough to cover both their bills - quietly to the bartender. "Look away from him and act like you're doing something else and didn't see him; then in about another minute of so, let's go."

Rivek gave a slight nod. His alcohol-inspired expression darkened into a serious one. "Got it," he murmured, his voice just barely audible. He took another sip of his drink, letting his gaze drift away on a random spot across the bar. He couldn't tell by his first look if the patron wanted to start trouble or target Rivek. Hells, he still had a heavy bounty on his head. He placed his drink back on the bar, his posture relaxing. He wasn't sure if his anxiety or pretend nonchalance projected more. Rivek subtly adjusted his stance on the stool, shifting his weight to be ready to stand quickly. "Lead the way."

Once they were at an angle that blocked the man in question's view of the action, Kali carefully flipped open a tiny mirror from one pants pocket and angled it to give her at least a partial view of what was behind their backs as they made their way to the door: She wasn't entirely certain, unfortunately, that the man staring hadn't been looking at her instead; she wasn't a priority target on the list, but an actual Tal'Shiar agent wasn't the only person who might find her worth offing if they happened to come across her while hunting someone else; any hired alien assassin with access to that same target list might too...though, the odds of those having memorized someone further down the list - or getting access to the whole list in the first place - were much lower. Not to mention anyone who could've been hired directly by any other Romulan house with a grudge against hers...Or, most likely, simply someone associated with the rather large collection of petty goons in this sector that she'd personally ticked off in the past.

Rivek noticed the subtle way Kali angled the tiny mirror from her pocket—practical and simple was not something Rivek was used to. His eyes narrowed slightly as he adjusted his stride to match hers, moving toward the door. He kept his posture relaxed, his senses tuned to the bar's atmosphere. "Is he here for you or I?" he said quietly, as they reached the entrance. He could hear the slightest sound of the fellow moving from his seat towards them. "What's the call here?" Rivek said, with his pace speeding up.

In the interests of swift action, Kali ignored the first question for the moment - the answer was effectively 'beats me' anyways. "If he doesn't follow, we get outside to a decent spot and call for transport out. If he does, but does so slowly or at a distance, same thing. If he makes a more overt move against us...Then hopefully he doesn't have any backup; and we take him out for long enough to get the hell out of here. Either way I think I'm crossing another bar off my list..."

As they walked out the door, it became clear they weren't out of the woods. The street was mildly busy, but not enough of a crowd to slip away easily. Either way, Rivek pretended not to notice their shadow. He dropped his communications device out of his pocket, holding it casually. He worked on it as though he were preparing to make a simple call. The device's display pulsed yellow with the text "Communications Jammer Engaged."

"Just in case," Rivek said.

"Great. I'm inclined not to wait for them to show their hand - pick a spot and signal for transport anyways." She wasn't thrilled with leaving the question of exactly who or what was interested in them; but the risk involved in sticking around for an answer wasn't worth the payoff likely.

"On it," Rivek stated. They found an unoccupied alley that they could duck into. Rivek pressed himself against the wall, obscuring the view with a trash dissimulator. He did something to the device that made it beep and wheeze. It only took two more breaths before the street faded behind a shimmering glow and the safety of the transporter bay.

"And to think, I'm still buzzed," Rivek said with a smile across his face.