Not that Spark Vallen had any funds she should be gambling with given the current state of her unemployment, she found herself wandering into The Bonadan Lounge for a game or two of sabacc. Growing up Corellian, she knew sabacc as well as she knew how long it was going to take for the long-grain rice to grow in the dry season on her parents' farm. At university, she used to joke that she grew up with sabacc cards as playtoys.

Despite it being the wee hours of the morning, the casino had a considerable number of players huddled around their card tables. She wandered aimlessly, feeling out where she might have the best luck on her meager funds.

I can't believe this is where I've ended up... she thought. Next to broke, a degree that's been useless and a million parsecs from home.

The twinkling, dazzling lights of the casino were hurting her eyes. Spark leaned against a support pillar to watch people.

Life sucks... and I'm stuck on a spaceport. Nice going, Spark, she thought.

A game of Sabacc wasn't exactly my cup of tea, but it wasn't a particularly painful activity either. I glanced down at my hand again, and raised my eyebrows as the humanoid across from me threw in his hand. Sabacc was something I only did occasionally, to unwind. It was far too easy for me to loose two weeks of pay in a night.

My hand wasn't that good, a thirty-two. It was my last hand of the night, I was loosing too much.

And then they phased.

"...no more bets please..."

Sirius brushed a shaking hand through his hair as he watched impatiently for the Roulette wheel to stop its spinning...

"..c'mon you sunuva!..." He muttered under his breath , as the ball danced and ricocheted inside it. This was the last bet of the night, and thusfar , his luck had been rotten, and all hopes were on this final spin of the wheel.

His eyes narrowed into slits as he tried to keep track of the ball, ever-so-often its whiteness could be glimpsed against the flurry of the black and red spokes of the wheel.

..or was it simply his imagination...

It seemed to take forever...

It teased him, it taunted him, and the whole process seemed to go in slow-motion...

Sirius needed this, and he needed it badly, had debts to pay, and he was fast running out of excuses...

...just one win, thats all I need, just one big payoff, and I'll be laughing...

The wheel started to slow.

...lucks gotta change soon...

Sirius felt his hands grow clammy , and he became fixed to the spot...

His eyes widened in horror as the ball fell into its chosen numbered slot...

"...Red- 21..."

...NOoooooo!

The words cut through him like a knife....and as the Roulette Croupier raked in the winnings , Sirius watched his money and his hopes melt away like candlewax. Sirius exploded.

"...YOU CHEATIN FRELLIN PIECE OF FRELL!, this all a godamned set-up!..."

Sirius flew himself over the roulette table , towards the Croupier sending chips, other patrons, and their drinks flying everywhere. The Croupier, an alien of some description, froze in terror as, in a flash Sirius had gripped him with both hands around the neck of his shirt, pulling the hapless Croupier almost clear of the ground...

"...GIVE ME MY FRELLIN MONEY BACK YOU CHEATIN ALIEN SCUM!..."

Before Sirius could even react , the security were on him, three smartly suited, and extremely burly aliens.
As he resisted , Sirius suddenly doubled up in pain, as a huge fist, the owner of which Sirius didn't even see, hit him square in the stomach , knocking all wind, and resistance out of him. And as the three men started to 'escort' Sirius out of the Lounge, the mutterings and shocked expressions of the other patrons soon disappeared as the disturbance was over quickly.

The cheap glitz of the casino was starting to hurt Spark's eyes. The bright lights glared down but if she stared at the carpeting, the dizzying pattern was enough to make her almost feel sick.

A commotion not far from her at the roulette table caught Spark's attention as a man was stun cuffed and drug away from the table. She watched as the security force moved him toward the backstaging areas until he was out of sight.

With a sigh, she wandered toward the food court in the hopes for something really really cheap.

"Aw yeah," I said, with a mediocrum of satisfaction as I threw my cards down, and pulled in the pot. I had made back the money I had lost, and then a little.

"C'mon AJ, gotta give us a chance to win that back..." said one of my playing companions.

"That's what I just did, Mic," I replied. "Gotta get out while I'm ahead."

"...YOU CHEATIN FRELLIN PIECE OF FRELL!, this all a godamned set-up!..."

I turned my head toward the general area where the shouting was coming from. Some sort of humanoid was strangling a Roulette operator, and screaming about the game being rigged.

"Buggered fool," said Mic, as he glanced at the tussle. "Roulette, it's not a game you can win."

"You won, once," I replied, pointedly. Mic smirked slightly. "Sure I did. Need I get a protocol droid over here to quote the odds against that?"

"Nah," I said, as the other sabacc players protested with mock vigor. "I know the odds. Still..." I glanced at the humanoid again, and saw three rather large aliens take control of the situation. "I feel slightly sorry for him. To be so dumb as to play roulette..."

Everyone had a good laugh at that one.

"I'll probably see you chaps next week, eh?"

Everyone grunted in reply, they were already getting the cards set for another round. I smiled, and pocketed my winnings. A little drink would do nice right about now, and then I would head back to bed. It had been a long week. As I walked toward the bar, I bumped into someone by accident.

"Excuse me," I said. A few seconds later my hand instinctively went to my pocket, even up here there was the occasional pickpocket...

Downtime.

It was the worst time for any smuggler who wanted to get ahead. No matter how often you wanted to make runs, there would always be a period where nothing, not even a simple transporting job, was available.

So it came to be that Han Solo was at the Astral Astoria, having stopped by on his way back to Nal Hutta. The last run had been easy enough, a matter of simple drop-and-hop, and because the Falcon had made good time, Solo had managed to come out slightly on top; Hutts, though greedy, scum of the galaxy did reward those who proved themselves worth the extra creds.

"Another Corellian ale." Han said to the barkeep, reaching into his nerfhide vest and pulling out a small palm full of credits. Placing his, now empty, mug on the polished counter, Solo turned on his stool, looking out over the casino. For most of the night Han had been thinking about trying his hand at some sabacc; he felt lucky, he had been having a good run lately, but at the same time something just told him not to bother.

"Here you go, Solo." Came the raspy voice of the bar tender, the mug of ale clanking down beside Han's resting elbow. "That'll be--"

"Just put it on the tab." The Corellian said, cutting the tender off. Han was well enough known around the station, yet he still could get past under the radar if necessary; thankfully things had died down since his days with the Alliance, and for the most part people who did know him these days, only knew him for his occupational services...

"Hey, Solo," The tender asked, walking back from the rear of the bar, having picked up a plate from the service window. "Corak ribs are ready..." He said, placing the plate filled to the brim with steaming hot food on the counter beside the fresh ale.

Glancing over his shoulder, Han looked at the rib platter. He had been hungry before, when he hadn't started drinking ale, but now he really couldn't be bothered touching the dish; and considering Han had never been one to turn away a meal, especially in his younger years, but right now...

"Just leave it there." Han said, looking back to the main area of the Casino. He would probably pick at the food later, depending on how he felt. Pushing the edge of the plate with his finger, Han sent it sliding a small distance away so as to not cramp his ale drinking...