Saga A Friendly Game of Chance, One-Shot, Originally Published On Fanfic.theForce.Net

My tribute to L. Neil Smith's Lando Calrissian Adventures, this one-shot was originally published on The Force.Net's fan fiction area. It tells how Lando won a new ship after losing the Falcon to Han. My first piece of SW writing, originally written over a year ago. Enjoy!

A FRIENDLY GAME OF CHANCE

The gambler strode down the crowded streets. He cast his gaze around, searching for the right place. There were thousands, probably hundreds of thousands of nightclubs, bars, and cantinas on the planet of Pluuko IV, but he wanted to find the one that would, if he played his cards right, leave him a rich man by the end of the night.

There was one-on the other side of the street, a dingy-looking place with a half-burned-out sign-wow, neon; who used that anymore?-that read T E G N ING R COR. No; too seedy. No one'll be there but drunks and rank amateurs. The gambler had learned a long time ago how to recognize which joints had it and which were a few vornskrs short of a pack.

A few minutes of walking passed. The gambler spotted another place-fairly respectable-looking, clean, and it had a holo-sign instead of neon. It was the kind of place where a guy could enjoy a good Bantha Blaster and maybe play for a couple hundred. But no; the gambler wasn't looking for modest pickings. If he wanted a new starship, he'd need at least ten thousand credits. Maybe some other time.

There was more walking. More scanning. Still nothing, save an aliens-only cantina that offered chemical inhalants instead of beverages. Stang. How hard was it to find a decent nightclub on a planet bigger than...

Ah. There it was.

It was a few stories high, all white, and had a massive holosign that read THE IVORY TOWER-a landspeeder parking lot located conveniently beside it. It looked opulent enough that the more well-to-do of this district would attend, but not so posh that a down-on-his-luck-yet-still-dashing gambler/entrepreneur/sometime spacer couldn't get in. It would probably cost a large chunk of the fifteen hundred credits that was currently all the cash he possessed, but he could easily parley the rest into 12,000. If his luck held.

The gambler crossed the street and marched up to the large durasteel entrance door, which was flanked by two SG-120 security droids from Holowan Mechanicals. They were well over six feet tall, and each was packing what looked like a huge riot gun. Yeesh. Tight security.

One of the droids held up a hand. "Pppaymmmennnttt isss rrreqqquiiirrreddd." It must have had a bad vocabulator.

"How much?" inquired the gambler.

"Onnne hhhuuuunnndddrrreddd cccrrredddditttsss ffforrr nnnooonnn-mmmemmbbberrrsss."

The gambler reached into his pocket and pulled out some credit chips. "Here you go, old rattle-trap."

"Ennnjjjoooyyyy ttthe cllluuubbb."

The gambler brushed past the droids and entered the building. Inside were dozens of tables that bracketed a large stage. Patrons of multiple species sipped drinks, chatted idly and only a few watched the act, a Palo's wick jizz-wailer who sounded like a Wookiee with a head cold.

There were server droids all over the place, but the gambler needed an organic employee; a place like this was sure to have a few, if only for show.

Ah-there. A maitre'd, Chagrian, by the looks of him, across the room. The gambler strode briskly across the floor and tapped him on the shoulder.

The Chagrian turned. "May I help you, sir?"

The gambler put on a winning smile. "Yes. I'm a scientist by trade, you see."

"I'm sorry?" the Chagrian asked, but there was a gleam in his eye. He recognized the opening of the universal player's introduction.

"A mathematician, to be more precise. I'm especially interested in statistics."

"Statistics?"

"Yes. Particularly permutations and combinations of the number seventy-eight, in sets of three. Fives are wild."

"Ah." The Chagrian's voice fell to a whisper. "Sabacc."

"I was seeing if I could conduct some research here. Do you know anyone who could be of assistance?"

"There is a research foundation that I know of. In back of this esta

 

The Gand collapsed and began convulsing. Just to be sure, and because he was a humane sort, Lando emptied all five shots of his stingbeam into the alien's body.

"And I did it while looking good," the gambler remarked. He turned to the collapsed table and began gathering up as many chips as he could carry in the hidden pocket of his cummerbund.

How - how Corellian!

The two went to redeem the winnings. It occurred to the gambler that he didn't even know her name yet. But he had other things on his mind. He had a ship to buy. And he had had to get that wine and the hotel room...

Yes, it was a lot of trouble for a new starship and one night with a beautiful Rutian Twi'lek. But it wasn't the last trouble Lando would get into...

Oh, I'm sure...trouble doesn't follow Lando, Lando just happens to create it, right?