Its a gamble to one up. (Mara)

[Ash]

Feet up on the table, tumbler of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette lit in his mouth, Bit both looked like someone who should and shouldn't be here. His clothes looked slightly too nice to be seen inside a dive such as this, but his jacket seemed just worn enough to be able to make it. He was also one of the only humans here, save for a small group at another table.

Coming from the holoprojector at the center of his table was some odd game where two people were on opposite sides of a field of some kind, and they sped towards each other on swoops while holding long pikes of some sort. The one who was knocked off his bike lost the round. It seemed that it was the best of three rounds.

Two people set up, and made a pass at each other. No one was knocked off, but when they went back at it after a quick reset, one of them was knocked off. Bit sighed, and downed the brown liquid in his tumbler, before pouring more in it from a bottle on the table. There went another 50 creds, not that he cared too much. He had some extra money to waste after his latest run.

It wasn't long before the next set was up, but Bit was already getting bored watching this. Whatever happened to Ultimate Female Mud Wrestling? That was a sport that Bit could watch all day and night. Still, this paid off when something exploded, which was more often than he thought. He was drawn back to the sport when the small speakers roared with the crowd, and Bit all but whooped as he brought in 100 creds. He grinned as he made another bet into the computer at the table.

[Mara]

[...from Hiatus]

Umgul. For someone like Pak, it should have been a paradise. Debauchery and entertainment of every color, size, and form abounded the planet that had dedicated itself to gaming and gambling. The Balosar wasn't much of a gambler himself, at least with his credits. Risking his life he had no qualms with. Actually enjoyed it, really. But there were plenty of other diversions that could hold his attention, no problem, that didn't involve the betting arts. Except that the place still held a bitter taste in his mouth from his last trip several months prior--a job had ended up with unforeseen complications that didn't agree with him--and up until now, had avoided going back there.

He had been on Zeltros, an equally depraved planet, enjoying a few drinks, as was his routine. A pair of beings had come up to him then, a Quarren and what was likely his Klatooinian bodyguard/servant. The tentacled man explained that his ship had broken down, but that he needed to be on Umgul immediately and couldn't wait for repairs. They had heard he was available. Pak had hemmed and hawed,  but the Quarren had eventually worn down his resolve when he revealed what he was willing to pay for fast passage to the gambling mecca. For a larger than usual payday, Pak was willing to overlook his misgivings. After all, the past was the past, right? Lightning never struck in the same place twice. And more credits equaled more booze.

The two had been quickly ushered aboard, and he had set course for Umgul. And after a couple of days, they arrived. Pak was paid, and his passengers hurried off into the distance. He pocketed his new creds and went aft to his cabin where he had a stash of his favorite liquor: Rylothian rum. After having learned the hard way what happened when he ran out of alcohol, he had been making extra sure since then to always have something on hand onboard his ship. That experience would never happen again if he could help it.

While he finished shutting down the Requiem for the night, getting himself prepared for another night on the town, he downed a couple bottles of the rum. Though he always had some kind of alcohol coursing through his veins on a daily basis, needing it to function properly, it was time for him to increase his intake. Piloting generally kept his demons at bay, but once he was off the clock and sitting around in a bar, the Balosar's mind had a tendency to wander, and so he required more, hoping to keep them hidden away for as long as possible.

So by the time the Balosar stumbled across the dingy, derelict cantina, he was already experiencing the euphoria of a buzz. His genial personality was firing on all cylinders. Life was good, for the timing being. Pak preferred these dive bars; he felt out of place in the upscale ones, though he usually had more than enough credits to get by within them. And he wasn't a picky drinker; he'd drink anything. So if a particular cantina didn't have one of his favorites, he'd just go for something else. Alcohol was alcohol to him. They all performed the same purpose for him.

Stepping through the door, he half-hardheartedly smoothed out his wrinkled shirt and sauntered over to the bar. Pak ordered a bottle of whiskey from what looked like Balmorra and waved off the bartender's offer of an accompanying glass.  He preferred to just sit at the bar for a while, chatting up his neighbors, but at this time, all the patrons seemed to be clustered around the establishment's tables. One glance told him all he needed to know: devices for betting were installed on them.

Pak grabbed his bottle of whiskey, placed a few credits on the bartop, and then headed into the room. He'd just have to sit alone then; while a friendly, magnanimous guy, he didn't think it a good idea to just insinuate himself in the middle of a bunch of gamblers, not knowing their propensity for violence. The Balosar's antennapalps only enforced this plan; he was picking up more negative vibes than positive ones. Maybe later the bar would be populated with people he could speak with, unoccupied with losing all their hard-earned money, but for now, he'd go solo, which he had no issue with.

It was when he was just a meter or two from an empty spot he had spied towards the back when his 'palps picked up a high degree of elation from off to his side. He glanced over, seeing a human with a wide smile on his face. Obviously the man had won big, which was more than he could say from the rest of the beings within the cantina, from what he had felt.   Pak was going to just move on but stopped. "Congrats, friend," he spoke pleasantly enough, before really realizing it. But after all, this was Umgul; risk-taking came along with the territory, so why not blend in? "I prefer to gamble with my liver, myself." The Balosar held up the bottle of whiskey in his hand, grinning back.

[Ash]

Bit had just sat back after placing his bet when a voice touched his ears. The man looked up, looking at the man who addressed him. For a moment, Bit was confused as to if he was talking to him, but seeing as no one else was looking at him, and obviously this guy was facing him, it could only be Bit. The human lifted up his tumbler, about half full with amber liquid.

Amen to that, brother. I do the same

Bit finally took the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it in his other hand as he finally took his feet of the table and signaled with his cigarette hand for the man to sit down.

Take a seat, bud. Stay a while and drink and gamble away. I wouldn't mind some company.

Bit grinned and downed the whiskey in his tumbler in one quick movement. He relished the burn down his throat, and the warmth in his belly. This was defiantly the life.

[Mara]

His grin widened as the man saluted him in return with his own glass of liquor. Pak was relieved that the human hadn't felt his anti-gambling comment was an intrusion into his private space. Or to his current vice. Getting into a bar fight was the last thing the Balosar wanted. Though his antennapalps hadn't warned him of any impending mood changes surrounding the patron, there had always been the slim chance that the other would flip unexpectedly on him, not appreciating his truthful jest. But perhaps the man was still just riding the high he had from winning and was feeling extra friendly. And drunk, if that wasn't his first fill of alcohol in his hand.

However, since the human had also agreed with him, regarding taking risks with his liver by drinking, he would put credits down on him having had a few already. Figuratively, of course; though buzzed, Pak would never do something so careless with his hard-earned money. "Good on ya," he said in reply. It was always nice to run into someone who liked to put back a few and didn't care about the ramifications of such a hobby. Evenings were generally more bearable if he could find someone like-minded to spend them with. Perhaps this man was only gambling to wile away the time as he imbibed and wasn't one of the more serious gambling types like the others in this cantina.

So Pak was more than happy to take the man up on his offer and forget about his earlier decision to sit alone. "Don't mind if I do. Thanks." He nodded to his new companion and plopped himself down in a chair opposite the man. As the other finished off his tumbler, the Balosar joined in by taking a long swig from his bottle of whiskey. He was obviously in a whole class ahead of this human, drinking-wise. But then again, most beings were outclassed by him in these situations. Pak had taken alcoholism to an art and beyond to the point where it was just a permanent part of him, like breathing. Without it, he was lost.

"And to show my appreciation, how about I buy you another round?" He lifted up a hand to signal a nearby server to bring by another glass for the man; Pak himself was all right for a while yet, considering his half-full bottle. Though his new friend seemed amiable enough yet to his presence, he felt it best to ingratiate himself further with him. Especially if he kept betting and stopped winning. This human's personality was still an unknown to Pak, and if some more alcohol kept him from verbally, or physically, abusing him later, he'd keep plying him with it. A lot to go through just to have a conversation partner for the night, but well worth it in his mind.

Once his companion's drink had been refreshed, Pak nodded at the holo-game in the middle of the table. "So who've you got your money on this time?" The Balosar was only idly curious about what was holding this man's attention, as he squinted at the image before him. He could understand the draw for other beings to risk their credits on games and other events, hoping for a big payday. And he'd never speak out against it. But it just wasn't for him. Not that he wasn't a risk-taker; he just gambled with bigger things. Like his life. Tossing away money he could use to buy booze? Pak passed on that.

[Ash]

Well, if you must. I had another bottle for me on the way, but free booze is free booze.

Bit smiled as the man sat down on the other side of the table, taking a healthy draw from his bottle of whatever it was he was drinking. He could only guess as his next tumbler of whiskey was brought over by a droid, along with a bottle of his own amber liquid had ordered not long before this man showed up.

Oh I'm only betting every now and then. I don't normally blow money gambling unless I have a good feeling that I can win. However, if I was to bet, i would be going for that bloke there in the red and yellow outfit.

Bit tossed the liquid in his tumbler down his throat, then filled it back up with some from the bottle. He could have started sucking it down from the bottle, but there was no need for that, in his mind at least. This man, however, had no problem with that.

So, you got a name, or just Bud? You can call me Bit, like everyone else I know.

[Mara]

Grinning, he lifted his own bottle in a casual salute. "More the merrier, right, pal?" It didn't bother Pak at all to find out that his new companion had already ordered himself a bottle to go along with his glass before the Balosar had been able to treat him to one. Where others might feel offended that their polite gesture was going unnoticed, this information in fact made him downright cheerful. He was loving the direction this conversation was taking, certain that it was headed to the ideal night out, if first impressions were any indication. Not to get too ahead of himself, but this guy was like his drinking soul mate!

He nodded. "Makes sense." So the guy wasn't really a professional gambler. Only an idle one, doing so to pass the time. Or when he had a gut feeling. Pak could deal with that; he had his own little hobbies to get his jollies. And it just made the possibility that they could spend the rest of the night drowning themselves in booze all the more likely. Because if this guy had been planning on betting on games for the next few hours, the Balosar would have had to find himself a new companion for the evening. Even if that friend was merely a big bottle of alcohol. Staying would have just been awkward. So it was good news to his antennapalps.

Curious, though, he found himself leaning forward to watch the holo, both hands winding around the bottom of his bottle. Wondering if this guy's hunch with the red and yellow fellow would be founded. As the two bikes sped towards each other, Pak felt a bit of exhilaration. The beings in this sport had to definitely be risk takers, addicted to speed and danger. And the Balosar knew all about that. Even if he didn't want to waste his credits betting on them, the idea that he could participate in it more personally tantalized him.

The man's question drew him out of the fantasy. As much as he might want to, he'd stick to his ship when it came to crazy maneuvers. Looking back up to him, he quirked a crooked smile. "I've been called many things in my time." Including but not limited to an annoying nickname he had gained while training in the Republic's Starfighter corps. Some young hotshot had thought it clever to call the Balosar "Palps." Unfortunately for Pak, it had stuck for the rest of his military career. "Captain, generally." He had preferred not to give out specifics to his passengers. It was unnecessary for beings he'd never see again. "But the name's Pak. Nice to meet ya, Bit."

[Ash]

This guy, after he was explained what was happening in this little game, started to seem as if he was entranced by it. Bit sat back as he watched as the two opponents rushed at each other, and Ash's prediction was off, as the one in the red and yellow get-up was driven right into the ground by the green dude.

Bit was happy now that he didn't choose to bet. If he didn't know better, he'd say that it was the force at work, but, he knew that it didn't really work with him, so dumb luck and distraction would work for him.

Quickly, this guy got to answering Bit's question, but what really caught him was generally being called Captain. This stuck some ideas into Bit's head, but finally, the man gave up his name. It was short enough to be a nickname, but it didn't matter to Bit.

Captain, eh? good to see another... Entrepreneur with the same tastes as me.

Entrepreneur was an apt word for people who did the same line of work as Bit... give or take. Bit didn't know if he was a smuggler such as he was, or if he generally worked with actual passengers, but Captain was Captain, and he didn't look like a current military man.

[Mara]

Pak took another long draught from his bottle, letting the smooth liquid run down his throat before answering. "Mmhmm." He nodded. "Self-proclaimed, self-employed. And all the perks that comes with bein' your own boss." It was so freeing to be able to do whatever he wanted without anyone looking over his shoulder, issuing orders. Having to follow rules and protocols. Not that he would ever regret his time in the military; it had straightened him out in a way nothing else could have. If it hadn't been for Shen, he'd still likely be there.

"Not sure I can consider myself so... entrepreneurial there, Bit." The Balosar grinned, laughter in his light blue eyes. "I just sort of... follow the wind, as it were. Taking passengers here and there. Collecting creds. Drinking." After buying his ship, he had kind of just wandered the outer rim, aimlessly from port to port, cantina to cantina, while trying to figure out the next step in his life. And that had taken him into smuggling, a stint that ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Now he was simply a shuttle for people who preferred to stay away from the public transportation lines. Earning credits to support his alcohol habit.

He put down his bottle and lifted his eyebrows slightly; even this tiniest motion made them disappear under his mop of hair. Pak hadn't bothered with trimming it in years, liking the rakish look it gave him. "So what is it you do that is so enterprising, Bit?" he asked, keeping his antennapalps alert to the man's aura for any changes in his emotions. After all, they had already established that they had similar tastes--booze--and similar jobs--captaining/piloting/something with ships. However, they were yet strangers, and this Bit might not want to divulge too many details. But the curious Balosar had to ask anyway.

[Ash]

Bit took his own draw from his tumbler when Pak put his bottle down after his little explanation of what he did for a living. It was an honest job: more honest than what Bit did... well, most of what Bit did.

I do the same as you, but also move cargo around. With a ship as big as mine, people pay some good money to move cargo around, and even more money for a great pilot to get it to its destination. More money means more time to sit around and drink.

While Bit was talking, he was pouring himself a new drink, and when he finished talking, he laughed. He had no problems moving any cargo, but when it came to more... illegal movement of procured items, thats where he made the big bucks, and he was able to keep his ship up and running.

He also left out the second part of his work, which, with the war going on, at times came out. He didn't higher himself out as a merc much anymore, which made for a somewhat safer life.

So whats your ride?

[Mara]

(((-LINK- to Pak's ship, just for FYIs))).


Leaning forward, he wrapped his hands around his mostly empty bottle as he listened to the other man answer his question and nodded in appreciation. It was nice to meet someone in a similar line of work as himself. Not that it was a particularly rare occupation for a being in the outer rim; one could hardly spit without hitting a spacer. But it was few and far between that Pak ran into one who was as amiable as this Bit, someone as like-minded as the Balosar when it came to off-the-clock time. And it gave them something in common to talk about, whereas he generally had to just shoot the wind with generalities with whoever he struck up a conversation with on his alcohol travels. Or sit and drink in silence with only his thoughts for companionship.

However, he could also read between the lines as Bit mentioned his cargo hauling, and a smile knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Pak wasn't naive when it came to the less than legal operations of pilots and freighters in this part of the galaxy; legit companies generally utilized parcel services and not a freelancer like he or Bit. He had dabbled in some of the same when he had first broke from the military. Because it was indeed, as the other man stated, good money. Better than shuttling passengers, for sure. But after a job had turned out to be more than he could morally, and politically, handle, the Balosar had sworn off smuggling for the foreseeable future. That was some bad mojo he did not need.

So in response Pak merely said: "Used to do some of the same, myself..." He spun his bottle between hands and shrugged. "But I just didn't find it as enjoyable." A bit of a lie, really,  but Bit didn't have to know that. The Balosar actually had found the smuggling life exhilarating, up until it had all gone wrong for him. Fleeing from pirates and authorities, flying risky maneuvers. It had almost felt comfortable, like he was back in a starfighter. The sort of tactics that living passengers generally frowned on. Or vomited on, which was just inconvenient as well as smelly. 

Besides, even if didn't agree with Bit's chosen method of earning a living, he could certainly be on board with the results. More money, more booze. His only reason for taking passengers, in the first place was to support his terminal habit. He raised his bottle and grinned. "Credits make the galaxy go 'round. Or something like that. I'm not an astronomer." Pak reached forward to clink his bottle of whiskey against the other man's glass. "To more time for drinking!" In emphasis  he drained the liquor in one gulp and signaled for another.

A pleasant smile spread across his face as the man asked about his ship. Now this was a topic he could handle; forget the details of their individual business tastes. His baby was his most important possession. He sat back against his chair, slouching a little as he stared off to the side, imaging the beloved craft in his mind's eye. "She's a beauty... a real firecracker," Pak said, blurring the lines between the ship and her namesake. "I got her at the Yspilian Shipyards year or two back... a Vector-class light freighter. Crimson Requiem's her name. My pride and joy." Lost in his reverie, he didn't think to ask Bit about his own mode of transport... or that he might have just opened up a line of questioning he didn't want to answer.