“If you think you’d have better luck with chance cubes…” Zetnu’ri is not even trying to hide the broad smirk on her face as she scoops another dozen credits up off the table and tucks them away into a pocket. Three rebel agents sit with her – a dark-skinned human woman, a female Bothan, and a male Mon Calamari. She hasn’t bothered to learn their names. She’s just here for their credits.
The Bothan snorts, tossing down her losing pazaak hand. “I’m done here.” She shoves her chair back and leaves, but the other two shrug at each other, prepared to try to win their money back from the smug little Twi’lek.
Zet graciously allows the Mon Calamari to shuffle the house deck, not that it matters. She’s an old hand at stacking her side deck by now. Tipping her chair onto its back legs, she plays and wins another three rounds in a row with ease, forcing the aquatic being to bow out as well.
Her remaining rival, the human, watches Zet closely as she reshuffles her side deck for the next hand. “Let me do that for you,” she says suspiciously.
“You think I’m cheating?” Zet feigns offence, her slender fingers pausing. The flat look on her opponent’s face clearly says yes, and with an indifferent sniff, the Twi’lek passes her set of ten cards across the table to let the woman shuffle them for her. “You can do the main deck too if it’ll make you feel better when I kick your ass again.”
Thanks to the woman’s interference, Zet’s starting hand isn’t as great as it could be. But when the human is focused on her spread and her own hand, deciding whether or not to add an extra card, Zet easily palms one of her own, replacing it with a positive two tucked inside the cuff of her jacket. As luck would have it, she draws and places a four when the woman nods at her to take her turn; she adds the two to make a perfect twenty and sits back to stretch her arms over her head in a satisfied way.
“Aw, don’t be that way.” Zet paws the money in towards herself as her mark gets up with a sound of disgust. “We could play for something else. Favours? Clothes?” If the Twi’lek had eyebrows she’d be waggling them.
“You’re lucky I don’t stun you right back into the sickbay,” the human retorts, her eyes flashing.
Pocketing her hard-earned cash and her cards, Zet laughs, rising gracefully to her feet. “If you’ve got any more suckers working on this ship, send ‘em my way. It’s the least you could do after the kung in charge here took our shuttle.” Humming under her breath, she shoves her hands into her pockets and heads out of the mess area, no doubt looking for Santos so he can help her gloat about her winnings.