Title: Sabaac Song and Dance Author: brodiew2 Characters: Kyp Durron, Bubba, the Hutt (OC), and R2-D2. Genre: humor, drama A/N: This is my fic-gift for @Chyntuck. She requested: 1. I want a story that starts with "A Hutt, a Jedi and a droid walk into a bar in Canto Bight" (or 'walked'). 2. I don't want any "serious" romance (humorous/crack romance is okay). 3. I'm happy with any characters. 4. I'm also happy with any era or continuity, except the pre-JA period in Legends. Sabaac Song and Dance Bubba, the Hutt, Kyp Durron, and R2-D2 walked, slithered, and rolled into the main lobby of the Canto Bight Casino. The motley trio drew many stares as they entered, but at this level wealth and society, there were no comments and thankfully, no prejudices barring one of them entry. Unfortunately, a rather too finely coiffed Bothan in magenta sherwani attire approached them. “Good afternoon, my Jedi friends,” he began, hanging too long on the syllables for 'noon' and 'friends', making Kyp cringe at the affectation. “How can I be of service?” “We're trying to locate Luke Skywalker,” Bubba blurted, coming to the point sooner than Kyp would have liked. The Bothan bowed, ridiculously low and continued in his syrupy tone: “The Jedi Grandmaster was exiled from the core many months ago. You will not find him here.” Kyp huffed, shaking his head, incredulously. “We are all weathering the storm and we'll find our own seats. Thanks.” Artoo tweetled furiously ended with an indignantly deep honk. “My thoughts, exactly, Artoo,” commented the Hutt Jedi. “But what do you expect in such a place. Everyone expects to be treated like royalty. Therefore, you have hosts so sickly sweet, it makes one's teeth ache.” “Fine metaphor, Bubba,” Kyp added, scanning the main lounge. Every type of gambling one could image was happening right here, whether in public or in private. “Luke said he was going to meet his here. I guess he'll find us when he's ready.” “The Grandmaster is rather fond of games,” Bubba growled. “Thinks he's so clever.” Artoo couldn't let that pass without responding. His series of tootles, tweets, and zonks told the tale. Kyp let out a short laugh. “Yes, I guess he is entitled to think he's clever when it is so obvious that he is. Hard to to argue with one of his oldest and best friends. Bubba smirked at that, but remained silent. The two Jedi had previously agreed to keep their Force senses in check, given the fact this place was no less a hive of scum and villainy than Mos Eisely space port, as Luke was like to say. The beings were just richer. And, being rich sometimes made people just as desperate as being poor. They just dressed better and drove more astral spacecraft. Kyp and Bubba just didn't want to to taste the desperation. That was all. Oh yes, and Luke had told them not to be 'looking' for him. Like they would find him if they were. As they approached a Sabaac table, Kyp produced his credit chit and took a seat. Bubba sidled up next to him and Artoo rested nearby. “What's the game?” Bubba inquired if the dealer, a green skinned Twi'lek dressed in the standard black and white of most professional dealers. “Empress Teta Preffered, Bespin Standard, or Corellian Gambit?” The dealer all but sneered at Bubba, her distaste for him or for Hutt's obvious in her sharp features. He didn't need the Force to know he was not welcome at her table. “Canto Bight Casino can provide whatever variation is desired. However this table has been dealing Random Sabaac for most of the day,” she said through a grimace. “Is there a problem,” Kyp asked, genially. I just want to play cards.” “For Jedi, there is always Force Sabaac,” she added. “But it is a rather trite example of the game.” Kyp didn't like her attitude and hated to think that every female Twi'lek in the galaxy hated Hutt's. He was not one to mince words so he just shot straight. “Do you have a problem with Hutts?” he asked, pinning the dealer with a nonchalantly with his eyes. “Or Jedi? Perhaps, droids, or even old droids? Does my friend R2-D2, over here, offend you?” The green of her skin and the red of her embarrassment made for an odd, sickly countenance on the dealer. She froze, not sure what to say or how to proceed. “I-I-” “Have friends who are Hutts?” Bubba interjected with rising annoyance. “Have a few old droids you hang with in your spare time.” Kyp touched Bubba's arm, lightly signaling him to settle down. “We just wanted to play cards,” Kyp said, flashing his dashing smile. “Random is fine. Is that going to be okay with you?” “Do you have to be so hard on the young lady?” said an elderly human man from the other side of the table. “You are positively dashing my glow. I'm here to wine and dine my young lady friend and you are sucking the joy right out of it. That's not what I expect from a Jedi.” Kyp eyed the man, but the brightness of the lights overhead obscured his features. From what he could tell the man was dressed in formal Corellian garb. “My apologies, Sir, but rudeness should not be tolerated by any being even if it causes a bit of discomfort.” The old man chuckled and slapped the edge of the table lightly. “Nice words, Jedi, and very diplomatic. You must be a fine example of your Order and for your banished Boss Man.” Though Kyp did not always agree with the Grandmaster, he was not about to let that comment go. “It appears rudeness knows no bounds here in Canto Bight,” Kyp replied, his cordiality slipping. “Perhaps we should cut the chatter and play cards. I'll even sweeten the pot. The loser goes home.” Bubba could see his Master's edge emerging and touched the edge of his tunic to signal him to breathe and let go of his anger. Every now and again an apprentice had something to teach his master. “That is a fine idea,” croaked the old man. “But are you willing to bet the old droid. R2-D2, did you say?” “Sorry, Sir,” Kyp replied. “The droid is not on the table. He belongs to Grandmaster Skywalker.” “All the more reason to sweeten the pot with it,” the older man said. “If I win I will personally see to it that R2-D2 is return to his friend.” “And how will you do that?” Kyp replied, warily. “The Grandmaster is ‘in the wind’ so to speak.” “If my information is correct,” the Correllian answered. “Your Boss is supposed to be in this very casino tonight.” Artoo spoke up, deriding the older gentleman’s information even if the man could not understand him. “I’m getting bored,” Kyp replied with a fake yawn, turning to his apprentice. “Are you bored, Bubba?” “A nap sounds good about now,” the Hutt replied. “But the mission, Master. The mission.” “No, Bubba, I think it’s time we left,” Kyp declared, glaring at the Correllian. “Come on, Artoo. Time to go.” Artoo tweeted in protest, wanting to see more of the casino and find Luke. As soon as they were out on the promenade, Kyp said to Artoo: “Luke said he would find us. Let’s let him do that.” No sooner had the words been spoken than a young Casino page unceremoniously shoved a flimsy into his hand. It read: “Docking Bay 49. You should have taken the bet, Blockhead. ” Kyp looked up and advised R2-D2 and Bubba, The Hutt, that the Grandmaster had found them.