[CLOSED] So goodnight cruel world, I'll see you in the morning.

[Bee]

Calrissian Hall was, in a word, massive. It had to be - unlike the majority of casinos that catered only to humans and their ilk, the multi-level building was designed with the needs of affluent Hutts in mind, who naturally required more space than even the largest of men would ever find themselves in need of. The tables were big, the pools were big, and the bars served drinks large enough to knock even the hardiest of gastropods on his or her back. But there were a few levels where the portions and furnishings were more suited to smaller creatures, and somewhere in between was where Vica chose to spend her credits. She certainly had enough of them - a handful of which had been carefully budgeted for a night of indulgence - and was more than eager to enjoy the sights, sounds, and numerous tables the Hall was home to. It was much classier than what she was used to, and she'd dressed appropriately for the occasion - as much as she could, anyway - in a black dress that didn't stand out from the crowd, while leaving just enough to the imagination that she didn't feel, well, exposed.

There was something about playing dress up that inspired an unshakable confidence in the back of her head, not that she needed it, one that made her spine a little straighter, her walk a little closer to a strut than the slow, easy gait it was more often than not, and having left the card tables with money in her pocket - rather than money left in the hands of those rigged to hell droids! - only contributed to that nigh invincible feeling. It was a good night. Nothing could possibly drag it down.

The keela, which had been helpfully offered by one of the scantily-clad Twi'leks roaming the floor, certainly wasn't hurting, either.

Making her way to the bar in an attempt to exchange her empty glass for one that was full of something alcoholic, keela or not, she took a look to her right and spotted a familiar face. Not too familiar - she knew of him vaguely, and her gaze lingered on his form as though she wasn't quite sure he was the man she thought he was - but enough so that she moved closer, taking an empty seat by his side as the man behind the counter fiddled with the taps and bottles to make her something 'strong and surprising', as requested. "Hey," she gave him a slight upward nod, "I've seen you before, haven't I?" Sure, it wasn't the best opening line, but she wasn't looking to charm his pants off. Not yet, anyway. "You're with the Cartel." It wasn't a statement nor a question, somewhere in between, her attention turning from Edmund to the short glass full of something pale pink that had been set before her. She'd never matched her booze before, but there was a first time for everything.

 

[Wit]

Edmund was not a fighter, oh he could hold his own in a fight, and he was not above getting his fists bloody if the situation called for it, but he had a preference for not participating in actual combat. Letting others do his dirty work, maybe even convincing them to think that they were actually doing it for their own benefit and not his, that was the way he liked to operate. That was actually the reason why he had found him sitting at the bar in the Calrissian Hall. He had finished a meeting with such an associate only some time back, a low level bounty hunter who he had paid to track down some "friends" of his whom he wanted to talk with.

The meeting done with, he had decided to relax for a bit and get himself a drink. He was not really a regular here anymore, and his visits were rare enough that he wanted to enjoy being here while he had the chance. And when a very pretty young woman came and sat next to him the decision to stay back seemed like an even better one.

He turned his head to look at her as she spoke and realized that he recognized her as well, at the very least her face was familiar to him. Maybe he had seen her at a briefing or had seen her face on the bounty listings. "Indeed," he replied, raising his glass in greeting, "I do believe I have seen you around somewhere as well."

Turning sideways in his seat so that he was facing her, he held out a hand to her, a smile on his lips. "But seeing as we are not as well acquainted as I would want to be with someone of such breathtaking beauty, let me make amends. Edmund Veidt at your service.".

 

[Bee]

Getting all dressed up to spend time with folks who weren't dirty and scummy was an event, as far as Vica was concerned, and as much as she hated to admit it, she kind of liked it. Luxury wasn't something she was used to - her tiny, near-empty apartment was a good indicator of such - but she could definitely grow accustomed to it, though some small part of her knew that a comfortable life was never really on the table. No matter how much money she made she'd always be restless, always looking for something to do, for places to go. Leisure, when it spanned more than a handful of hours or days, was agonizing. She was like a shark, always on the move, never truly able to stop swimming.

But Edmund looked like someone who was well acquainted with the finer things in life - maybe that was her assumption of all handsome, relatively clean-shaven men? It hadn't been wrong yet - and didn't seem out of place at the bar, a quiet observer rather than a rowdy gambler, of which there seemed to be no shortage despite the hall's dress code and pedigree. The compliment was enough to make her laugh, a little buzzed but mostly of the mindset that she was definitely not the breathtaking beauty he'd described. Still, flattery was nice. "Vica Veszk." When her hand found his, her grip was strong, but not abnormally so, and her pale pink skin was cool to the touch. "Not a fan of lugjack?" In lieu of drinking what was placed before her, she toyed with the plastic garnish idly. "Can't say I blame you. It's a great way to throw your credits away."

 

[Wit]

Vica would in turn find Edmund's grip to be firm, yet gentle, for in a place like this, away from the darker aspects of their jobs, he was a gentleman. He sipped on his own drink and took a quick glance towards the nearest gambling table. He had never really felt much interest in gambling, he had never really found himself in a situation where he was so desperate for credits that he as forced to gamble and neither did gambling for money give him the rush that some people experienced. So there was really no incentive for him, at least most of the times.

"It is, isn't it?" he replied after taking a sip, before leaning in closer to her and speaking in a soft, conspiratory voice. "I'll let you in on a secret, the house always wins." He pulled back with a wink and a smile on his face.

As he smiled, he observed the woman in front of him and realized that he felt highly intrigued by her and felt that spark from her that made him want to get to know her better. "So," he began as he finished his drink and returned the glass to the counter, "Miss Vica. At the far end of this hall lies one of the casino's many restaurants, and this one has recently poached a chef of some renown. I was thinking of giving him the opportunity to astound me with his food. Would you be interested in joining me?"

 

[Bee]

What was it about the Cartel? It seemed that everyone she'd met was either good looking, interesting, or a combination of both - not that she was complaining - when they really had no right to be. One didn't exactly associate physical attractiveness with the Hutts (sorry, Borga) unless it had something to do with the Twi'lek slaves they seemed to favor, though money and power were magnetic in their own right - and smart people, who were easy on the eyes, tended gather both much faster than their homely counterparts. Perhaps it wasn't so strange after all, but she'd been a spacer for a long while, and personal upkeep tended to fall by the wayside when one spent months in a ship full of questionable cargo. It was just the way that kind of life went.

She was glad to be rid of it.

Turning to face him, she took a slow sip of the milky-pink drink in her hand, tilting her head so that his soft words fell closer to her ear. He was right, of course. The house was the only winner in the long run - luck factored in, but most people rarely quit playing when they were ahead. "Is that really much of a secret, though?" Vi wasn't trying to be rude, only playful, and the way she smiled at him hopefully conveyed that she was more amused at his admission than anything irritated he'd told her something so obvious. Because really, for most gamblers? It wasn't.

Taking a look down the hall as though she could see past the men, women, and assorted humanoids milling about, she turned to Edmund with an easy smile. "Now that sounds much better than throwing money at a bunch of dealer droids." Drink in hand, she stood and waited for him to do the same, wondering when she'd eaten anywhere but a sleazy little diner by her apartment last. It had been a while, that was for sure.

 

[Wit]

Edmund got up to his feet as well, politely holding out an arm for Vica to hold on to before starting to walk towards the restaurant.

"So," he asked as they walked, "do you come here often?" He was making small talk, but at the same time he was interested in finding out more about her. His curiosity was normally raised for completely different reasons, mostly when he wanted to figure out the best way to destroy someone. So this was a rather pleasant turn of events.

Moments later, they would be seated at a cozy little table, menus in their hands and soft music playing in the background. "Some wine?" Just then a sudden vibration would be felt through the ground, accompanied a moment later by a muffled thump. As almost everyone looked up at the sound, the large doors at the far end of the casino floor exploded inwards. When the smoke settled a few seconds later it revealed half a dozen individuals standing in the ruined doorway, big weapons in their hands, masks over their faces. "Everybody stay calm," shouted out the short one in the front, "this is a robbery"

 

[Bee]

Despite not having the most privileged of backgrounds, manners weren't exactly a foreign concept to Vi, who slid her hand into the crook of his elbow easily and without hesitation. It was weird, being talked to and treated like a lady, but it wasn't entirely unheard of. Given their location and the appearance of her new acquaintance however, she felt somewhat compelled to actually play the part - which was unusual - to the best of her ability. "No," she admitted truthfully, managing to hide a small laugh behind a grin. "I don't usually have the time." Or the finances, or the desire to hang around people prettier and better off than she was, and so on. "I take it you do?" He looked like he'd fit right in, but Vi had learned long ago not to judge by appearances alone.

The restaurant's warm, posh decor was something of a surprise, and with a menu in hand she tried to hide her curiosity, eyes roaming over the high ceilings, the soft window treatments, the holo-candles - it was as though they'd been transported somewhere else entirely by their short walk down a fairly nondescript hall. Lowering the menu with a smile, Vi managed a small nod before all hell broke loose, a look more akin to confusion than fear on her face. "Really?" She whispered, incredulous, to her 'date'. "Just how stupid are these guys?"

The men fanned out, two of them taking the restaurant, while the other four occupied themselves with the bar and casino, guns in hand. The two that remained in the eatery moved from table to table, one holding the eaters at gunpoint, the other coaxing them to remove their credit chips and swipe them in a bulky, self-made device that likely emptied the chips into a bank account somewhere off-world. No one wanted to get shot, and despite being deep in Cartel territory, none of the patrons were armed - or if they were, they weren't willing to take the risk against the thugs, which was kind of smart - and the process went as smoothly as the thieves could hope for.

"Credits," barked the Ranth holding an intimidating, modified ACP repeater gun. "And hurry up!" Sighing, Vica popped open her wallet and held out her chip, pulling it back before either of the men could grab it. Looking the Ranth in the eye, she smiled and leaned a bit closer, making it quite clear that she was eyeing him up and down. Unseen, the pheromones that were responsible for the odd rose hue of her skin invaded the man's mind, so much so that when she asked, sweetly, "Can I see that thing?" gesturing slightly to the gun, he readily handed over his blaster despite his partner's vocal protesting.

There was no way the human holding the scanner was going to let her live - not if he had any say in it. Ignoring his partner's dazed look, he drew an E-11 from his hip, and promptly crumpled in a heap on the floor, his chest a gaping hole full of nothing from where the 'borrowed' ACP had punched right through. Before he could snap out of the lovesick haze, Vica treated the Ranth to the same point-black shot, sighing at the blood that stained her clothes, her skin, her hair, the floor - basically everything. Dinner was ruined.

And so was the robbery: it seemed one simple act of defiance was enough to make the thugs reconsider their plan, leaving the hall in peace.