Zira Darkstar

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~Beta'd by Envy~
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Chapter 6

After watching Carth disappear, Zira steeled herself to what she had to do. She began to walk through the entrance room of the cantina. It was a long rectangular room with a large table in the center. She assumed it was used for pazaak payers, as there seemed to be a growing number of places in which one could play the card game these days.

She shrugged off the question of how she knew that, and decided to look around. The only thing she did know about pazaak was that it was played with cards and each player had to have their own deck.

Along the north wall of the room there were several view screens that had some loud announcer talking about match ups. Zira dismissed it as a local sporting event. The room had a few other patrons though, and she eyed them each in turn.

There was a Tarisian nobleman thumbing through one such deck of pazaak cards talking to a red haired Tarisian woman. She had her hair drawn up into a looped tail at the crown of her head that pulled the rest of her hair taunt. Her clothing and manner suggested that she wasn’t of the nobility. She was an extremely thin woman, her face gaunt and long. She had high cheekbones that seemed to stick out a bit among her other features and her jaw line was sharp, leading to a pronounced, pointy chin.

She seemed to fluster easily, and she proved it when the dark haired man she was talking to described the vast amount of credits he’d won in a “particularly rewarding” game.

He was a very tall man, easily a full head and shoulders over Zira and spoke with a thick Tarisian accent. He had black hair that had been cropped short and wore a rather garish red tunic. He seemed to enjoy every moment of the woman’s attention as he spoke a highlight reel of his accomplishments and greatest games.

The only other person in the room was an elderly man sitting at a table near the back of the room. The table was positioned near the main door leading into the main room of the cantina. She’d seen him try to chat to Carth, but he had gotten the brush off.

She decided that the man fit the profile of someone who might know something about such things as Republic space pods. Gossipers loved to talk about things like politics and war, this seemed to fit both categories. She casually strolled across the room, looking as though she were just going to walk past all together.

The old man played his part perfectly, waving her over with a friendly smile on his face. “Hello there, youngster. You interested in buying a pazaak deck off an old man looking to get out of the gambling game? Just fifty credits and I’ll sell you all my cards. I’ll even throw in a free lesson to boot. It’s a great deal, if you can afford it.”

She let him say his entire speech before she decided to say anything. She felt herself falling into a strange bit of acting as she did so. She changed her mannerism so that she seemed pensive, like she was really considering his offer very difficultly. One of her full, pouting lips curled gently into her mouth and she pressed her teeth against it, holding it in place.

She already knew she was going to buy the deck, it seemed like it might become a way to make credits later on, and it would also ensure she had some time to talk to the man.

“Sure, I’ll buy your deck,” she finally said, letting him think he’d convinced her with his prepared speech.

The man’s eyes lit up as he watched her flip through her pouch and produce fifty credits. “Glad to see you’re interested in the grand old game. The rules are pretty simple. Here: I’ll load them into your data pad so you can check them out anytime you want. Good luck: I hope the game’s as good to you as it was to me. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?”

The man seemed to have forgotten part of the offered deal, and the main reason Zira was interested in the cards to begin with. He did, however, manage to put his name into the data pad entry though: Garouk.

“I’d like that free lesson,” she stated in the most bubbly, cheerful voice she could manage. She surprised herself a bit with just how well it had succeeded.

Garouk’s aged lips parted in a wide grin, “Of course, of course.” He moved his drink aside, clearing a spot on the table for the cards and set the deck out before him. They each took turns drawing cards from the deck and laying them in front of her. She deliberately drew cards when she knew it would cause her to “bust” and repeatedly laid out the wrong hand cards.

The old man was warming up quickly. She let this go on for a little while before she allowed herself to start “slowly catching on.” During the motions of learning and playing she smiled up at him and said in a gentle, quiet voice. “I want to ask you some questions.”

“Of course, of course.” He mirthfully said. She absently wondered what it was he expected her to ask, but she decided that he probably wasn’t that kind of person. “My mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be, that’s why I’m giving up the gambler’s life. But, I think I can still manage to answer some simple questions.” His tone was still light hearted. He seemed to be laughing off his age, or at least trying to make light of it.

Zira figured she had him right where she wanted him, and she decided to just ask outright what she wanted to know. “Do you know anything about those Republic escape pods that crashed down in the Undercity?”

The smile faded from his lips and he shook his head. “I spend my days here in the cantina, sipping ale and chatting with the folks who wander by. I don’t have much use or care what goes on outside these walls. I don’t see much point in worrying about that kind of stuff now that I’ve given up the gambler’s life. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

She could tell that he was right back on the defensive. Any gossip this man spoke of things that might anger the Sith, he didn’t do with strangers. She decided that she might take advantage of his withered mind, as he so put it. She shrugged, much larger than need be, and smiled at him. “You’re Giving up gambling? Why?” She immersed her tone in concern.

“Don’t get me wrong, the game’s been good to me over the years. I’ve traveled the span of the galaxy, from the Core Worlds to the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim. I’ve won countless fortunes… and lost countless more. But that was long ago, and things have changed. Gambling is a young man’s game. That’s why I sold my old deck to you. I don’t have what it takes anymore, and I hate to let my cards go to waste.”

She pretty much ignored the brunt of his speech. She let him talk just long enough for the final cards in the set to be laid out. She decided to let him win one more, there was nothing on the line anyway. During the last moments of the game, she let herself slowly become more and more distracted, looking about. After he finished his last sentence she turned back to him and smiled widely, “I’ll be going now, my friend is probably looking for me.”

She watched the old gambler deflate and nod. “Of course, of course. No sense in a youngster like you wasting your days away with an old man in a dingy bar. But if you ever want to chat, you know where to find me.”

She nodded very politely and then stood to walk further into the cantina to see what else it held. She didn’t make it far before the dark haired nobleman stepped in her way. “I saw you getting a Pazaak lesson from that old fossil Garouk,” he began, an air of smugness surrounding him. “Learning the rules of Pazzak is easy, but actually playing the game is a much greater challenge. Normally I wouldn’t bother with a novice like you, but since Gelrood was banned for hustling cards, I haven’t been able to find a good game around her. Do you wish to play a hand?”

She shook her head and stated very curtly, “Sorry, not interested right now.” The man must have seen her play Garouk and took her for an easy mark.

“If you ever wish to test yourself against the best Pazaak player on Taris, heh, you know where to find me.” She felt her eyebrow twitch and simply walked away from him.

The main section of the cantina was a vast, circular room. There was a circular counter in the middle displaying menu’s, events, boards and sexy holo pictures. Each one advertising a different type of Tarisian ale. Apparently this planet takes it’s drinking very seriously. She noted as she turned left. The loop led in a full three-hundred sixty degrees with a separate wing branching at each of the main directions.

She ended up going into the southern room, as it was the largest. She hoped that this was the room that would have the most patrons in it, but alas, it was nearly empty. Her eyes rushed across the room, taking it in. She saw a large, open room with several people grouped along the right wall, they seemed to be looking through things or chatting. They all had on matching uniforms, and at first, Zira thought they might be some kind of gang. There was also a strange looking Rodian in the left, back corner. He seemed to be talking to something, or someone, but Zira couldn’t see who. The last thing she saw in the room was a large slug-like creature that she knew to be a Hutt. She started to wonder what he could possibly be doing in such a place.

She was pulled away from her ponderings, rather abruptly, by a pair of Tarisian nobles who were rushing across the room. “I can’t believe we couldn’t get arena tickets for this match!” She snapped at the man following her. “Now we’ll have to watch the duel on the view screen.”

The man seemed a lot more bored however and moaned out, “Who cares? It’s Duncan and Gerlon fighting. It’s not like we’re missing anything good.”

The woman cast him a glowering look, “Shh! They’re about to start, so quit complaining and just watch the view screen.”

Zira shrugged. Why not? Might as well take in a bit of entertainment while I’m here. She walked over to where she could make out the details of one such view screen.

The announcer started up the introductions. “Ladies and gentlemen, I draw your attention to the dueling ring. Here, two combatants will battle for your viewing and gambling enjoyment. Now I hope your bets are down, because we’re ready to roll! In this corner, I give you… Gerlon Two-Fingers!”

There was a cheer from the audience surrounding the round chamber and the announcer gave a long pause before his second introduction.

“And over her, looking to climb the ranks, yet again, is the ever persistent Deadeye Duncan!”

Zira wondered for a moment why it was the second man didn’t merit much of an introduction, and was quickly received the answer. The man, Duncan, grabbed his blaster as the green light signaled the start of the contest. As the blaster started to come free of the holster, the sight caught on it, and caused him to fumble the weapon to the ground.

Duncan was quick to dive on the weapon and came up with it swiftly, holding it by the barrel rather than the grip.

The other man had lazily drawn his own blaster, sighted up, and put rounds into Duncan’s chest before the older man could try once more to correct his mistake. He collapsed heavily to the ground and Zira’s eyes widened in horror.

What she’d just seen had been little more than an execution! The older man didn’t even seem to have a chance. Before she could express her rage outwardly, the announcer picked up with a laugh and began talking again. “And, to nobody’s surprise, Deadeye is down again. Don’t worry, folks. He’s just unconscious. As usual, our medics will have him up and about in a bit. Well, that was quick, wasn’t it? So I give you the winner… Gerlon Two-Fingers!”

Zira felt a wave of relief wash over her and she exhaled a deep breath that she had just drawn to shout about the outrage of what she’d just witnessed. The two spectators at the view screen near her were already laughing and saying how they’d saved a bundle on actually paying for tickets.

She watched the men from the dueling ring being lead back into the room she was in currently. Duncan seemed to be clutching tightly to his ribs and Gerlon looked bored.

She realized that the matching uniforms she’d seen on the people before was actually just the get up the duelists were using. She looked them each over as she began walking towards them.

Duncan was a short, older man with heavily graying hair. He had a refined look that most people called “distinguished.” The once dark hair above his temples and streaking back over his ears had already turned completely grey-white, and his bangs had started to take on the same tinge.

Gerlon was a middle aged man. He seemed to have grey streaks hidden amongst his mid-length black hair, which he kept slicked back. He had a flat, square face with a small nose. The name “Two-Fingers” didn’t seem to make much sense to her, but she figured it was just some clever nickname.

There were a couple others too. There was a sharp featured woman, who was remarkably beautiful. She had long red hair that she wore in a high bun at the back of her head, and she had one of her hands resting on the blaster pistol at her hip. Despite the woman’s obvious beauty, she seemed immeasurably cold t. She wasn’t talking to anyone, and it didn’t seem as though anyone was about to start talking to her.

The only other one she saw in the group was another old man. He looked like he could have been Duncan’s older brother, as they both had aged round faces. He however had gone bald, only a thin layer of snow white hair that ran from the around the sides and back of his head.

Zira, feeling kind of bad for the old man, walked over to try to console Duncan who was still holding his ribs. She had just barely gotten into ear shot and offered a smile. She had just drawn a breath to talk to the man when he turned a furious look upon her, freezing her in place.

“What are you looking at, fresh meat? You want a piece of me? You want to step into the dueling chambers with me?’

Oh…. Kay… Crazy old man. Best just walk away, I’m sure he is just upset about his lose. “Goodbye,” she stated very bluntly.

“Yeah, that’s right, back off! You know better than to challenge Deadeye Duncan. I will mess you up.”

She stopped again, his threat infuriating her. I came over here to console you, you prick! Maybe I will just see about that. How hard can it be to beat a pathetic pistol jockey who can’t even hold onto a blaster! She strongly considered voicing her thought aloud. She decided it would have to wait until after she figured out how hard it would be to become a duelist.

It seemed to Zira, that if anyone knew how to do that, it would be the slimy, stinking Hutt. She walked over to him and bowed graciously. She wasn’t exactly sure why, but it felt right to her for some reason.

The Hutt let out a low booming laugh and started speaking in a low, reverberating language. The bass of the language and rumble of the creatures voice caused resonations to rattle her breast bone while he spoke. “I’m sorry, human. The betting window’s closed. No more fights right now. People are sick of seeing the same duelists all the time. It’s bad for business. Unless…” He trailed off, viewing Zira’s armaments.

“My name is Ajuur, I organize all the duels here. We need a new face in the dueling game, human. Maybe you want to step in the duel ring? It can be a highly profitable venture.”

Zira rested a hand on her pouch, which was now considerably smaller since she’d paid for the deck of cards. “I might be interested, what’s in this for me?” Again, she surprised herself. Her tone had become forceful, business like. She automatically had taken a stance and tone that didn’t seem to eager to jump into the ring, even thought that was why she’d come over in the first place.

Ajuur let out another low, booming laugh that filled the air with a pungent odor. Zira felt as though she might throw up but somehow managed to keep her cool. “I can arrange for you to fight in the duel ring. If you win, you get the standard contract: ten percent of all wagers. And don’t worry, nobody dies in the duel ring anymore. Death matches are illegal now. Most fighters in the duel ring use vibroblades or stun sticks because the rings pretty small, but a few of the duelists use blasters. Use whichever you prefer.”

He had obviously looking her over. She had both a blaster at her side, and the vibroblade on her back. “Vibroblades and blasters don’t kill anymore? I think the Sith will be disappointed to hear that. How will they pass the time?”

Ajuur didn’t seem to enjoy the humor of her joke. His fist sized eyeballs narrowed as he regarded her. “The duel ring has energy suppressor fields to make sure nobody dies. Weapons are limited so they hurt, but don’t kill. And we’ve got a medic droid in case of serious injuries.” He said, in what was probably a very intimidating voice to most. “Are you interested?”

Zira considered her options a moment. Before she even considered much else she had lifted her right hand and laced her fingers through her dark hair. She threw the opposite hip outward to try and show off some extra curve. Something seemed to tell her that Hutts were into such things. She parted her lips, a strange new voice emitted from it’s depths. “I’ll do it, but I want more then ten percent.” It was seductive, which the very idea repulsed her, but she had already spoken.

Ajuur let out another deep throated laugh, “You’re joking, right? If I pay you more, then everyone wants more. No, you get the same as the others: ten percent. That’s my final offer.”

She stood upright again, feeling incredibly foolish.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” She took some solace from the fact that she was, not only, going to get to put Duncan in his place, but she was also going to turn a profit doing so.

The giant slugs excitement caused him to right himself a bit more, a wide, evil looking smile parting his lips. His massive eyeballs seemed as though they might pop clean out of his head and land on the floor.

“Good, new blood for the ring! But you need a nickname, like Ice or Deadeye or Twitch. Good nicknames make people bet more. Hmmm… what’s a good name for you?”

Zira’s mind landed firmly on what she wanted her name to be. “I know! How about D-”

The Hutt’s booming voice cut her off again as he continued. “You’re an off-worlder. You’re new here, people won’t recognize you… I know! From now on in the duel ring you’ll be the Mysterious Stranger!”

Her face twisted in abhorrence, “That’s a terrible name!”

Ajuur would have none of it, “Bah! What do you know about nicknames? I’ve bee giving names for twenty years! Mysterious Stranger, that’s your name. The Mysterious Stranger is a perfect name for you!” He pointed a chubby finger at her. She could tell that it wasn’t a matter up for discussion; he had already made up his fat mind. “You’ve got no past, no history… It makes you seem like you have some big, dark secret. People like that. Makes them bet more.”

It wasn’t like she had a choice, so she simply decided to accept the name. There was no sense in trying to reason with a Hutt when credits were involved.

“You ready for a duel now?” Even in his booming language, the Hutt seemed to be squealing with eager anticipation. Zira’s mind thought of a child who’d just gotten a present and wanted to open it immediately. “You want to step into the ring right away? I’ll set you up with Deadeye Duncan to start. I’ll tell you the rules if you’re ready.”

A gentle smile crossed her face. It must have been a dark or sinister thing because the Hutt seemed to take it for exactly what it was. An affirmation. That’s why I came over here in the first place. “I’m ready for a duel.” Her new voice was cold, calculating. She liked it. This was the first one that felt familiar to her for some reason. I must be a real bitch…Oh well, I’ll figure that out later.

The corners of Ajuur’s gaping maw had lined with a thick, slimy fluid that was oozing it’s way down his chin. He rubbed his stubby little hands together greedily before punching some things into a worn datapad. He began speaking quickly, his eyes fixated on the data streaming across the small device. “Yes! You fight and people bet, and I make money! It’s all good. Only one rule: Nobody dies. Your opponent goes down, you don’t finish them off. Death matches are illegal now. You’re new at this, so I’ll start you off easy. You get to fight Deadeye Duncan. Are you ready to go into the ring now?”
Wow… Can’t say I was expecting it to be that fast. Oh well, how hard can it be? “Let’s do it.”