Here's to Luck.

[Kella]

The air smelled of smoke and ale and metal dust. Thudding bass beats were all that remained of the dance floor's music by the time it filtered past the crowd and the bar. The patronage seemed to be divided. Some wore ill-fitting formal-wear, with restless bodies and weary eyes, while others wore grease-stained coveralls, with restless eyes and weary bodies, and both of these were employees of Nessem's shipyards.

The rest of the patrons seemed random in appearance, and twenty years ago, Lordura would have wondered how so many disparate people would have chosen to occupy the same space. But now, she knew the patterns to spot. The utilitarian clothes, the non-standard blasters, the various pouches, the keen glares, the smug looks. They were traders, merchants, and shippers.

Nessem was a better place than most to stop along the Hydian Way, and anyone who had a reason to be on the trade route -- say, a crew of pirates -- could be found at one time or another in the Cantina. If any one of the more respectable patrons knew that they were sharing a bar with a dozen or so of the infamous Bohemian's crew, even Lordura would have had to struggle to get out in one piece. But she wasn't worried. No one had more discretion than a drunk pirate.

She glanced around the room, pegging the possible threats. From her place by the entrance, she could see the room full of metal tables and chairs, bolted to the floor, to the bar where a four-armed Besalisk hummed back and forth. Strobing lights leaked from the dance floor in the adjoining room. There were doorways behind the door, and across from the dance floor, but they most likely led to pools and gas bars, which were far less interesting than exits.

"A toast," Dice said, "To luck."

Lordura turned her attention back to the table, and to the half-dozen glasses which already hovered in the middle of the table. They all looked at her, their Captain, waiting for the her glass to complete the ring. She nodded.

"To luck, to Honesty," -- a few chuckles -- "And to profit," she said. "Salut."

"Salut!" they all echoed, and glasses chinked around the table. Lordura emptied her glass, welcoming the familiar tingle in her palette. Conversation resumed at the table, and she listened. But she was also listening to a great deal of other things, as that is one's duty when they are the Captain. A Cantina was an organism all its own.

A waiter swept by and offered her another drink, which she quickly accepted.

Just because one was the Captain didn't mean one couldn't get a little drunk.

[Meira]

You... 'ey, girlie. You one of them... what're they called? Them nomad folk?
Humani?
Aye, that's them.
Yep.
I thought so. You make talismans and the like, right? For luck?

Uh-huh. Roma pivoted on the bar stool where she'd been sitting, leaning against the counter. With one elbow propped on the bar, she rested her head in her hand. Her shoulders slouched, she gave off a most bored demeanor. Her hood was up, as she often wore it. It helped to muffle the noise, slightly. Though the bass from the music in the adjoining room seemed to shake her whole body.

Well, 'ow much? The smell of grease and oil on the man somehow managed to break through the smoke. She lowered her hood and turned face the sound of his voice directly. She heard his sudden intake of breath. It caused the tiniest twitch at the corner of her mouth.

Wh- what 'appened to you then?
What do you mean?
Your eyes?

My...? Roma lifted her fingers to lightly graze the scarred skin around her eyes. she feigned shock. Oh no! I.... I can't see! I'm BLIND! Slumping again, she set her jaw askew. None of your business, bub. You want a luck charm? well, what'cha got? She held out her hand.

A few moments later, she felt a small, round, metallic object being placed in her palm. With her other hand, she felt the hole in the center, threading done through the metal. It was a nut, for holding a bolt in place. She shook her head.

You must have a problem with your brain being missing. She said, tossing the nut back at the man. How's something with a hole in it s'posed to hold any luck?

I ain't never been 'urt while I've 'ad that in my pocket, not once! The man retorted, defensive.

Well what d'ya need me for, huh? Want me to spit on it or something?

I thought you lot did spells and such...

Not on something that's just gonna leak it all out!

She heard the man drag a glass across the bar, then heard the glug of his throat as he swallowed, followed by the glass touching back on the counter again. Reaching out, she swiped the glass. It was small enough... a shot glass. Holding it in both hands near her heart, she mumbled a few words in the Humani tongue. This always added a nice touch. The unfamiliar words always gave the estrani the chills. Though in truth, all she said was something along the lines of "this man smells worse than a wet dog".

Once she was finished, she held the glass in one hand and extended the other, empty palm up, toward the man. That'll be fifty credits.

You're outta your ruttin' mind!

Fine. Roma shrugged her shoulders. Barkeep! she said, turning her head back and forth as if searching for him.

Alright, alright! Twenty five. He said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Roma pushed it off.

Fifty.
Thirty.
Barkeep!
Fine! Here...

When she felt the credits in her hand, she released the glass. She could hear the man mumble as he wandered off, but she couldn't make out the words over the music.

What? The voice startled her, but since it came from the other side of the bar, she assumed it to be the bar tender.

Oh... another drink please. She said, her hand groping for where her glass sat, empty, on the bar.

You haven't paid for the last yet.

She set some credits on the bar, heard the swish of a hand sliding them away, then the liquid being poured into the glass. The shuffle of feet indicated that the bartender had moved away, leaving Roma alone at last. With a sigh, she settled her chin back down into her hand, wondering when Pau would be back... and if he'd found them a new ship to ride on. She took a swig and grimaced as it burned her throat. A la bona sort. She mumbled, taking another drink.

[Silas]

“No, it’ll be okay. I’ve got the money, it’s just…” His voice broke a bit at the lie.

The older man just shook his head and muttered, “I wish I could help you out kid, I really do, but can’t do nothin’ if you ain’t got the credits.” The man had a bit of pity in his tone, but for the most part it seemed as thought was annoyed by the little Humani that attempted to barter his way onto their ship, “Nothin’ in this world’s for free, kid.”

An exasperated sigh exited his mouth as he quickly tried to devise a way to get onto that ship, “I’ll work for you! Anything, just please let us on.” His fingers scrubbed through his thick hair whilst he looked at the captain.

The man with one dark green eye squinted a bit as he contemplated for a moment the sorry excuse for a boy before him, the boy whom had given up all his possessions to find his way onto one ship, and now the boy whom had no money to find his way onto the next. Lines had formed under his eyes after days of fitful sleep, for how was he supposed to sleep when images of a life long past danced in his mind. The man seemed to feel little pity for his state, though for he simply shook his head. Wisps of white hair wavered loosely from his head as he moved a bit away from the boy.

“Aye, kid… go buy somewhere for the night. Maybe get yer self a meal, this is all I can offer,” He told the boy as he tossed him a credit chip.

Pau caught it as he cried out, “No! I don’t want your money.” With an over exaggerated movement he threw it on the ground. “I need to be off this planet. I need somewhere to stay.”

The man had forgotten the boy with all his problems, though for his back was to him, and all the ship that loomed before him was all that occupied him now. That grotesque face was gone from Pau’s view at least, and if his life went well he’d never see it again. “Yeah! Well, you have a funny name.”

His words were pitiful, but all he had as he quickly bent over to pick up the chip he had just flung down there, hoping that no one would notice. Dignity wasn’t something he particularly safeguarded at the moment; however he didn’t want to look like a total hypocrite by picking it up off the ground. It actually might help him to buy another night to stay, but he doubted it would help him in the long run. It seemed as though even in a world apart from the Humani’s superstitious life styles there was little room for two misfit kids deemed mala sort by their own people and cast out. If anybody needed them it was simply for an odd or end that would leave them lost once more at the end of their task.

And then there was Romarosa. She would be back at the bar doing whatever it was she did while he was away waiting to hear news that he had gotten them a ride. What was another reason for her to think him useless amongst the millions she already had? Sometimes he wondered why she even remained around him the way she talked. Angrily he turned around and sent his fist to hit the side of a building next to him. All he got in return as a slightly hurt hand, but he didn’t care; right now he needed to let his anger somehow.

Why can’t thing just go right for once? he asked himself as he started to head back to the place where he would find his only companion in this galaxy; the one person that probably hated him the most.

The place wasn’t far away but that didn’t stop Pau from taking his time as he meandered past people on the streets as they shouted their wares. In comparison to the chaotic mess that was the Junta this was a peaceful little meadow in the woods that had a little stream of people moving through it. At his own pace he followed that stream with an uncanny precision as one foot fall brought him nearer and nearer to the place he found most dreary at this moment. A shot of something should calm his nerve; recently he’d been introduced to alcohol, which was much more soothing than he’d always heard it being described as.

Before long, though, he found himself in front of the building he sought to the sound of loud bass beats that might have motivated him to dance at one point, but now all he sought was a bar stool. Aside a little brown haired woman with her hood up, and her eyes glassed over by a look that told of her condition; blind.

“So, how’s the view down there?” He asked her sarcastically as he sat down. The bartender seemed to be not that far so he called out, “Morellian Ale.”

The man got to work getting his drink as he waited for the response.

[Rugs]

Sometimes, it was truly fascinating the things would could see by merely being in the right place at the right time. Or, in this particular case, the things one could hear. Or the things that can happen to you, Asyr mused silently as a little cloud of cigarra smoke drifted from him, carried into the air by his breath.

For the time being, he was in exactly the right place, as far as he was concerned. The Bohemian was stopped on Nessem for the time being, and the captain and the rest of the crew had, no doubt, already taken over a bar somewhere. Truth be told, Asyr had thought he'd be in the thick of things with them, keeping an eye out for skirts to be chased, but something else had caught his eye.

There was a boy--a young man, perhaps--near some other ship in the space port. Hardly an uncommon sight in areas like these, but what the boy was doing happened to catch Asyr's eye. And his ears.

“I’ll work for you! Anything, just please let us on.”

Yes, that had been what caught him. The boy was looking for a ship. Looking for work. And, were his begging and pleading anything to go by, he wasn't doing it just for the sake of making money. Kid needs a home.

It was a situation the pirate was all too familiar with. Taris, Coruscant, Abra. He'd spent time on all of them, looking for work, looking for a way out. It was often hard, frustrating work, especially when it dragged on for weeks.

Was that why he found a bit a sympathy stirring for the kid?

He leaned against the outside wall of a nearby building, one that was far enough away to not be breathing on top of the boy and the man he was having a conversation with, but still close enough to keep most of what they said in earshot. There he stayed as they talked, smoking casually and acting as if his attention were elsewhere. A glance to the door told him the building was a non-smoking one, anyway. Then he was a man taking a smoke break. A man who also happened to be eavesdropping...

The kid kept pushing. The man kept refusing. The boy got a few credits out of it, which was more than Asyr had gotten from most captains he was refused by, but it wouldn't do. Tough luck, kid. He dropped the cigarra, stamping its smoldering butt out with his boot and turned to leave.

That was about the time the little draconic droid on his shoulder stirred. "Asyr, shouldn't we help him?"

"Wish we could, Flitch, but there wouldn't be any room on the ship for us if we picked up every stray we came across." It was a truth part of him still resented from his days of homelessness, but it was a truth nonetheless.

Flitch was silent for a moment, head tilted to the side as if he were considering. "But isn't the captain still taking on new members?"

"As she sees fit, yeah," Asyr answered, looking at Flitch from the corner of a pale silver-blue eye. "But it's her decision to make, not mine. If the kid finds her, he might get on, but I can't say."

Flitch glanced back at the boy, who was scooping a credit chit from the ground. "That's unfortunate."

Asyr simply snorted. "Tell me about it."

-----------------------------------------

It didn't take long to find the place where most of the rest of the crew had assembled; Asyr simply stepped in, looked around and moved on if they weren't there. As luck would have it, it only took him one wrong stop before he found the place.

He swaggered in with a grin on his face. The dull thud of dance music boomed. A din of conversation hung over the place. The air smelled of smoke and alcohol.

It'd been too long since they'd gone bar-raiding.

"To luck, to honesty, and to profit."

There she is, he noted on hearing Lordura's voice. He added his own "Salut!" as he made it to the table, taking a chair two spots down from her.

"So sorry I'm late," he said, settling into his seat comfortably and grinning. "Hopefully I didn't miss too much. 'Cept for gettin' a drink... Hey!" He called out to a waiter who was passing by. "Morellian ale, if you'd be so kind." The waiter nodded and hurried off.

"So how are we all today?" Asyr said to no one in particular as he glanced around the building. One of the patrons at the bar caught his gaze though, and held it for a moment. It was that same kid with the messy black hair from the space port. And here was Lordura, not too far away. Fancy that...

Maybe things would turn out alright for him.

[Kella]

"So how are we all today?" Asyr asked.

"Drunk," Dice answered solemnly, knocking back another shot.

"Bored," Morrick muttered.

"You're always bored," another said.

"I know," Morrick continued, "We should start a bar fight. We haven't had a decent bar fight in ages..."

"So the one in The Fluffy Duckling doesn't count?" Zorrick said.

"Two months is an age..." Morrick said.

Lordura heard raised voices, and she glanced up to see a woman stalking away from a table. She left a man behind, who was gripping the table with white knuckles.

"It'd be unfortunate if anyone piqued that man's temper," she gestured with her chin, "I bet it would come to blows."

Morrick looked at Zorrick. "How much do you bet?"

"Fifty credits all you have to do is bump his chair."

"Fifty the bouncers get involved," Zorrick quickly added. He and Lordura shook on it.

"Ten he calls you a 'snub nose!'" Dice threw in, slurring. Morrick and Zorrick stepped back from the table, casing their target. They made their way over to his table, which backed up against the bar. Zorrick swung into a barstool, while Morrick expertly clipped the man's chair.

"Hey, watch it!"

Morrick didn't look back.

"I'm talking to you, y' snub nose!" the man stood, and his chair clattered to the floor.

Dice squealed with glee.

Morrick turned slowly around. "Snub nose? How original, coming from a beet-face." The man's face flushed even redder.

"You traders come in here and think you can do whatever you want, but you can't. You had better show me some respect, I'm a manager."

"Ooooh," Morrick mocked, "I'm so impressed." He snorted. "No wonder your girlfriend left."

A loud SMACK! resounded through the room when the man's fist connected with Morrick's jaw. Every head but the most intoxicated swiveled to the sound.

Morrick's face broke into wide smile. Zorrick leapt from the bar.

"Hey, you hassle my brother, you hassle me," he said. This time, it was the man that stumbled back under the impact of Zorrick's upper-cut.

Once a bar fight gets started, it gains a life of its own. A few jumped in when Morrick ended up crashing through their table, and the Besalisk started yelling when Yorrick jumped up on the bar for a better angle when he tackled the man. Others joined just for the heck of it, and soon, the whole area surrounding the bar was a tangle of bodies and punches and an orchestra of crashes.

Soon, two other pirates joined the fight. Dice stayed behind, as he'd gotten on a betting sprint with Marien.

Beautiful, Lordura thought, leaning her chair back on two legs. Just beautiful.

[Meira]

Her drink had been consumed, and another took its place in her glass by the time she felt someone slip into the stool beside her. Her jaw tightened. If this was another idiot looking for some lucky bauble she might scream. But they needed the credits. They always needed the credits.

Resigned, she took another sip of her drink. The burn was less troublesome now that her lips were feeling a bit numb, and her stomach was warm... Roma was beginning to like alcohol. She set the glass down with a sigh, waiting for her next customer to poor out their sob story.

“So, how’s the view down there?”

Oh. It was him. Roma snorted out a grunt of laughter as her hand felt along the bar for her glass. Finding it, she lifted it to her lips and downed the rest of her drink. He didn't lead off with any information about a ship, so Roma could safely assume he'd found nothing. Useful as always... she thought to herself and she set the glass back down.

"Still can't see you..." She said, her words a bit heavy on her tongue. "So I guess pretty good." She pushed her hood back off of her head and sighed. She heard him order, and the bartender brought the drink. Roma felt along her belt for the little pouch that held the credits she'd earned that evening and placed a few on the bar. "So I guess that's a no on the ship. Perfect."

Her left hand reached out and found his arm. She walked the hand down the length of it until she came to his hand. Pulling it toward herself, she placed the pouch of credits in his palm and quickly pushed his hand away again. It was never a good idea to let the blind one handle the money.

"Hey, watch it!" Roma heard, but the comprehension was coming slowly.

"I'm talking to you, y' snub nose!" Something about this wasn't good. A chair fell to the floor just behind them. Her back stiffened and her hand immediately began to search for her walking stick. But her brain was behind the game. What was going on? The angry voice continued, and with each word her uneasiness increased.

"Pau..." Her hand hit the stick, knocking it to the floor. "Merda." She grumbled as she slid from the barstool. Her feet touched the ground, but she had trouble keeping her balance as the alcohol toyed with her system. Her hands gripped the bar. As she took a breath to steady herself, the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting a face rung out. Though they were useless, Roma's eyes widened and she dropped to the ground. Her hands darted about as a chaos of noise erupted around her. She found her walking stick and pulled it close and she crouched under the bar's overhand.

"PAU!" She cried, frozen with terror. With the sounds of bodies, glass, and barstools flying, there was no way for her to gage where anything, or anyone was. She pressed her body against the bar, hoping that whatever shelter it gave would be enough until Pau could get her out.

Hands grabbed her arms, pulling her to her feet. She went willingly, a wave of relief washing over her. Pau hand found her. He would keep her... She sniffed. Wet dog...

"I think tha's fifty you owe me sweet'eart!" His hands moved from her arms to her body, taking their time searching for the money she didn't have. She screamed and tried to push him away, but he was stronger than her. In a panic, she brought her knee up, and it connected at his groin. The hands stopped.

"PAU!" She cried again, lifting her walking stick and swinging it wildly around her. She stumbled, all sense of direction completely lost to her now. The stick connected once, twice. She had no idea who she struck, but she didn't care. She needed out, away from the noise. Where was he?

[Silas]

"So I guess that's a no on the ship. Perfect." Her tone implied that she wasn’t too happy, which she might have reason for, but it made him slightly indignant. Why should she blame him when she doesn’t even try?

For a second he looked abashed as he regarded her, “Well, you know. I could always…”

About this time a sound caught his attention as the world around him seemed to slow down a bit as the sound of an angry yell echoed through the bar. Quickly the vagabond’s eyes found the man that had made the disgruntled accusation with a bit of annoyance; he was far too drunk to be a threat, though. A slight pause allowed tension to build up before the fight began and it seemed so quaint to see it happen from afar. The entire thing seemed a joke to the other man as they the brawl went from one person into a mass of chaos. The bartender and the bouncer tried to intervene but were quickly taken into the brawl themselves.

Pau supposed he wouldn’t be getting another drink. With one quick movement he emptied his as he moved to get out of his chair.

“PAU!” A voice ripped through the air as the echo of something small, breakable; a fragile little butterfly to be broken with the slightest touch. Roma was in trouble.

Quickly he spun on his heel to where she had been just moments ago only to find air, as he looked around he noticed her on the floor as she flailed for her walking stick. People milled about as his anger surmounted to the fact that no one stopped to help. Of course, about this time a hand grabbed his shoulder, and in a fit of blind rage Pau swung for the assailant with a clenched fist.

What he found was a rather sturdy man whom seemed to be able to hold his own against the small Humani, so Pau did what he did best—got hit rather squarely in the gut. Suddenly the meager meal he had earlier eaten came riling up as he threw up on the man in front of him. Caught off guard the man flailed wildly as Pau spun out of the man’s vision.

“PAU!” This scream seemed more frantic and he pivoted once more to find what had happened. A man seemed to impose over her form, a bit of bemusement in his drunken eyes. The audacity of the man refueled his anger and the pain in his stomach seemed to subside.

A chair was right next to him, so he grabbed it as he shouted, “Hey bitch!”

With a quick, but precise attack he hit the man squarely in the head with all the strength he could muster at the moment. The breath caught as the back of the chair smashed against his coat, but it only seemed to make him more furious as he turned around.

Perhaps Pau shouldn’t have gotten into this fight after all.

[Rugs]

"Sounds like we're all good then," said Asyr to the others' replies. He leaned back in his chair, flashed a grin and propped his legs up on the table in front of him. One of the waiters passed by and gave him a dirty look, but if Asyr noticed he didn't show it. Bars were like a second home beyond the Bohemian. Why shouldn't he make himself comfortable as if he were at home?

Flitch scampered down from Asyr's shoulder to the table, running down his chest, legs and pausing to perch with his two front legs at the top of Asyr's boot before hopping down. His little head looked this way and that as Morrick and Zorrick started plotting trouble and making bets. It was all so very new to him, being stuck with a gang like this. Certainly different than what life at the Project Familiar labs had been like. He still wasn't quite sure what he thought of this.... rowdy motley crew that Asyr travelled with.

"Asyr," the droid started as he settled onto his haunches and turned his head back to his partner, "why would they bet money on intentionally starting trouble?"

"Why?" Asyr lifted his brows and looked at the little metal dragon sagely. Flitch had yet to really be educated in the ways of space piracy. Well his education would start today, with one very important aspect of being a pirate. "Because bar fights are fun. Hell, why do we do half the things we do?"

Flitch's holographic wings rustled over his back. "But you are causing a disturbance to the workers and other patrons of this establishment. I don't understand how you could get enjoym-"

"Trust me, Flitch," Asyr cut in, laughing, "it's all a good time. 'Sides, it just gives 'em somethin' to talk about when they go home. We're just makin' their lives more interestin'." The Echani looked to the captain and flashed a grin. "Isn't that right?"

The waitress returned then, carrying a large mug of ale for him. Her dark brown curls bounced as she walked and she cast worried glances looks over to Morrick and the angry man, who'd just shouted the incredibly foul insult 'snub nose'.

Asyr was more worried about looking at the leg that was showing beyond her short skirt.

"Here's your drink, sir."

"Thank you, dear." He flashed a boyish grin at her as he took his ale.

"You... you don't think they're going to start any trouble, do you?" It was clear she was talking about Morrick and Zorrick.

"Those two?" Asyr turned to look back at the confrontation. He played the part well, pausing as if he were really giving the obvious answer some consideration. "Nah, they're about as harmless as kittens. It's just a misunderstanding, see. It'll get cleared up."

A voice yelled out from the back. The waitress looked back. Asyr pinched her rump. She yelped in surprise, but when she turned around to see him grinning she blushed.

"I... I have to get back to wo-"

SMACK!

Every one turned to look at the origin of the sound. Asyr hid a laugh under the pretense of drinking from his cup. The waitress gasped. He heard a few chuckles ripple around the table.

Harmless as kittens. Asyr made a subtle toasting motion toward Morrick and Zorrick. "Well, I didn't say that man was harmless," he said before the waitress could say anything. "Probably drunk. Alcohol has a way of addling the senses, see." Inwardly he wondered how long it might take for the whole place to erupt into an orgy of drunken rage and chaos. He gave it about half a minute at most.

Truthfully, he wasn't far off the mark. One thing led to another, and once the drunken frenzy got rolling, it kept growing and spiraled out of any one person's control. Asyr chuckled to himself and took his legs down from their place on the table, comfortable as it was. It'd been a while since he'd been in a good bar brawl, and his more pirate-y tendencies mixed with his Echani upbringing made a cocktail of emotions had the man nearly giddy to jump in.

The waitress, on the other hand, looked mortified. Flitch wouldn't have looked much better, if his metal face could actually form expression. His wings, however, were an alert orange and moved restlessly, settling and resettling on his back.

"Hey, stay here, Flitch." Asyr took a final swig from his mug and set the empty thing down on the table as he stood. "I know you're such a troublemaker, but don't go lasering people with your tail, alright?"

"Asyr," Flitch's voice was stony as ever, "I am not-" He stopped and groaned as Asyr turned around, obviously not paying any attention to him. That man would get them in trouble one day. He just knew it.

Flitch looked around the bar, taking in the din with a passive face and a shake of his head. He sidled over to sit near Lordura and flicked his head to look at the dark woman. "Do these kind of things happen... often with this group?"

Meanwhile, Asyr was busy searching for a place to get involved. He glanced over to the dark-haired kid from before and noticed he'd gotten himself drawn into the brawl. For a moment he thought to go there, but as luck would have it, something else came to him first.

A burly man, probably too drunk to realize what he was doing, stumbled toward them. He lunged at the waitress.

The woman screamed.

Asyr reacted.

It wasn't hard for Asyr to dart between the two. It was even easier to divert the large man's unbalanced weight to the side. He felt the waitress clutch at the back of his coat as the man tumbled past them and crashed into the wooden table he'd just been sitting at.

The table collapsed when he hit. Flitch yelled as he was tossed upward.

Asyr gave the dazed man solid kick in the ribs for good measure and gave the woman at his back a winning smile. "Y'know, you shouldn't get yourself into these situations. Hate to see a pretty little thing like you get hurt."

[Kella]

Lordura felt the familiar buzz working its way around her skull. A little bit of alcohol and a little bit of excitement made for a very good mood.

Marien, Dice, Lordura, and one more were forced to give up their spectator's seats when Asyr sent a very large man crashing through their table. He was 'rescuing' a waitress, which would really be better described as 'getting some tail'. Lordura actually hoped he got lucky tonight. His work was significantly better the next day if he had.

Dice, roused to optimism by one of Sir Gin's mighty pep-talks, charged into the battle with an empty bottle, shouting, "Two hundred credits I don't make it out alive!" and laughing manically.

Which left Lordura and Marien to stand back and observe their mighty handwork.

"Please," One of the bouncers panted, coming up to them, "Ma'ams, help us break up the fight."

Lordura looked to Marien, who looked to Lordura, who then looked back at the bouncer, and hooked him in the jaw. The man staggered towards Marien, who finished him off with a hit to the chest.

Pesky mosquito swatted, they returned to their observing.

"Looks like someone's bitin' off a little more 'an they can chew," Marien said with a chuckle, gesturing towards the bar. There was a young, dark-haired man, chair in his hands, looking quite terrified as he realized it took quite a bit more than a whack with a chair to take such a large man down.

"How about a little bet of our own," said Lordura, "He swallows, you buy Asyr a new clock, he chokes, and I'll get him one."

"Deal."

Pirates, being creatures of upmost character and virtue, did not need to shake to know that a bet among friends would be kept, so the women simply turned their sharp eyes upon the boy, and waited.