A gambler’s den of the Vertical City’s greatest bettors, Club Vertica is a casino reserved for the wealthiest of Nar Shaddaa. Cardshark droids are used exclusively to deal hands to those willing to risk their credits at the sabacc tables. Cheating is rendered near impossible under the surveillance of the droid's six photoreceptors. That of course does not stop the downtrodden from accusing others of being a fraud, which can often happen before someone receives a blaster bolt between the eyes. The few that have able to use skiffers undetected are counted as some of the best swindlers in the Galaxy.

Cerulean lights illuminate the tables, making concealment during a game difficult. Seated around most of the oval tables are a mix of gamblers from different species, succumbing to their addiction for the ultimate prize—the sabacc pot. Credits are tossed onto the tables forming mountains that draw in fierce competitors with deeper pockets and faster wit than the usual patrons.

Behind the games of sabacc, drinks are being served from the alcove of a small bar. Most of these are a shade of blue in color, expertly mixed to dull the senses of all but the hardiest individuals. Onstage, a local band sets the mood of the venue with an upbeat number that deafens out most conversations. The stakes are always high at Club Vertica.

Nar Shaddaa. A hive of scum and villainy, home to many of the galaxies notorious outlaws and criminals. Many consider the Smugglers Moon to be a place of either absolute poverty, or unbelievable wealth. Club Vertica is one such example of the latter, a bustling casino and bar. Only the filthy rich would typically be at such a venue, but occasionally there are exceptions.

“You have got to be kidding me.” huffed Raider Seth Danner, throwing his sabacc hand on the table in front of him. The Odanite had just lost another five hundred credits to his opponent, who sat opposite.

“It's a matter of luck, and skill.” replied Mystic Levi Zetta, claiming his third win against the Human male. “It just so happens that here the line between both is blurred.”

“That, or you're cheating with your fancy Force powers, Jedi.” accused Seth, pointing at the lightsaber worn on Levi’s hip.

“I could be, or maybe you just suck at Sabacc.” teased the Grey as he singled a nearby Cardshark droid. “Care for another game? All or nothing.”

Seth nodded, placing his last five hundred credits on the table. Following suit, Levi dropped the fifteen hundred credits he had won on the table.

“Bets set. Begin game.” said the Cardshark droid, quickly dealing the men two cards each. The game began, moving quickly through the calling and shifting phases, before returning to the betting stage. In any other game of Sabacc, both Levi and Seth would have had to place bets again, but this special “turbo” mode had only one bet, and one win. Both men drew another card, grinning down at their hands.

“Pure Sabacc. What do you think of that mate?” exclaimed Seth, reaching for the credits Levi had won from him.

“Not so fast.” said the Jedi. Seth froze, hand outstretched, his precious credits within his grasp. He slowly looked up at the Kiffar, a look of dread washing over his face.

“Idiot's Array.” said the Palatinaean, as if in slow motion. Seth’s heart sunk, distraught at the loss of his few remaining credits too this Jedi. Emotions flooded through him, sadness at first being consumed by rage. Without hesitation, the Human unholstered his right Reynolds DE-21 slugthrower. He pointed the weapon directly at Levi, aiming just above the Kiffar’s nose.

“Cheating rat. You’ll get what's coming for ya.”

“Gentlemen there is no need for violence,” said the dealer droid, it's spindly arms outstretched, pleading for calm.

Seth pulled his second Reynolds from its holster, pointed it at the droid, and said “Oh, I think there is,” never once taking his eyes off the Kiffar.

Before the smuggler could fire Levi snatched the lightsaber from his belt, activated the weapon and sliced through the pillar connecting the floor to the table. With his free hand he flipped it up towards the Odanite. Seth fired twice, once at the Mystic’s head and once at the dealer droids head. The first shot, the one aimed at the Kiffar, struck the overturned table sending the slug ricocheting into the roof. The droid however wasn't as lucky. Its head exploded in a shower of sparks and shrapnel before its body crumpled to the ground.

Gunfights were a common occurrence inside Club Vertica and its security personnel were quick to react to this latest violent outburst. Four guards of varying species, all geared up for trouble, came bursting from a side door blaster pistols at the ready. As the guards entered the casino floor patrons and staff began to run for the exits hoping to remove themselves from danger as rapidly as possible.

“Oh come on,” muttered Seth under his breath as he began firing on the approaching guards.

The quartet went diving for cover as round after round came flying in their general direction from the Reynolds DE-21 clutched in Danner’s left hand. With his right hand the smuggler fired sporadically at the source of his frustration, the Kiffar Jedi. Again and again he fired at the Mystic but Zetta seemed to twist and turn his body in such a way that every bullet the Odanite fired seemed to miss the mark, sometimes by mere millimetres.

From the left a flurry of blaster fire hit the ground near Danner’s feet. Chancing a glance to his left Seth saw the guards had managed to organise themselves behind a makeshift barricade. Their leader, a Weequay, began shouting orders at his men who seemed momentarily taken aback by the Jedi’s lightsaber. Finally realising he was exposed, the smuggler took off towards the bar, firing as he did so. The slugs slammed into the overturned gaming table protecting the guards until one finally hit its mark.

The bullet punched through the skull of a Rodian guard showering the Weequay captain with blood and brain matter. The incoming fire halted momentarily as the captain wiped bits of his allies head from his face giving the smuggler just enough time to make it to the safety of bar. With a running leap the Odanite cleared the bar top and crashed into the rear wall knocking several bottles of liquor over.

As he reloaded his pistols Danner snuck a peak over the bar top and saw the Grey Jedi darting left and right, swatting aside incoming blaster bolts, as he closed in on the pair of guards firing at him. As the Kiffar got nearer a lucky shot from a Pantoran guard caught him across the face leaving a ragged scorch mark across the Mystic’s tattooed cheek. It burned but the Palatinaean pushed through the pain and, in one quick blow, sliced the barrels from the guard’s pistols.

“Run,” the Kiffar growled sending the two guards fleeing for their lives.

The Weequay, the only remaining security guard still in the fight, rose to his feet and aimed his pistol at Levi’s back. Just as he was about to shoot, a trio of cracks rang out through the near empty casino as Seth fired. The slugs punched through the Weequay’s light armour perforating lungs, liver and heart as the sliced through his body. The force knocked the guard captain back into a column behind him with a wet thwack. With the guards dealt with, at least for now, Danner aimed at Zetta and fired.

Levi turned his head, glaring at Seth as the slug hurtled towards him. With a quick relaxing of his knees, the Kiffar dropped as the projectile went zipping past. It hit the wall, ricocheting into the fallen Weequay guard with a soft splat.

“You're quite the persistent one.” stated Levi as he turned to face the Mercenary. Seth rotated his arms, placing his left Reynolds in the Kiffar’s direction and firing. The large crack of the weapon firing set off alarms in Levi’s mind. As if out of pure instinct, the Jedi quickly raised his lightsaber. The slug hit the yellow blade, and immediately disintegrated from the heat.

“Of course I am.” replied Seth as he lined up another shot. “I want my money back.”

“Why? So you can pay for the funerals of the guards?” laughed Levi, gesturing to the corpses that surrounded them with an open palm.

“Nah mate, but I'll pay for yours.” grinned the Odanite. Levi smiled, allowing his opponent the luxury of reloading his final two magazines of ammunition.

“One last game. All or nothing.” said the Jedi, gripping his lightsaber in both hands. Seth tipped his hat with the barrel of his left handgun, pointing the right one at Levi.

“Let's dance blindfella.” said the Raider. He squeezed the trigger, letting his firearm roar with each shot. Levi glanced up, quickly dashing to the right. Bullets zipped past his head, each only missing by the smallest amount. The Palatinaene mantled over several abandoned chairs and tables, taking cover behind a pillar. Dannar holstered his right handgun, taking careful aim with his left. Another shot fired, taking out a large chunk of the pillar Levi was hiding behind.

Time to move.

The Grey Jedi launched himself from behind the pillar, deactivating his lightsaber as he went in for a roll. Hitting the club floor, the Kiffar rolled on his back, kicking off to boost his momentum. He hid behind another large pillar, this time however, not planning to move. Seth stopped firing, knowing he was close to empty, he couldn't afford potshots.

“Now listen here Jedi, you come out peacefully and give me my money, or I'm going ta paint the wall with your brains.” Levi sighed heavily, hooking his lightsaber on his belt, and stepped out, hands raised. The Odanite gestured him to advance with a wave of his gun. Slowly, Levi made his way to the bar, resting his hands gingerly on the polished wood surface.

“Money. Now.” muttered Seth through gritted teeth, pressing the barrel of the Reynolds against Levi’s head. Nodding in agreement, Zetta slowly reached down for the sack of credits that had been bouncing around in his pocket. Pulling it out, the Jedi dropped the stash on the counter, with a metallic clunk as it landed. Seth smiled, leaning in close to Levi.

“Sorry mate, just business.” he said grimly, squeezing the trigger of the weapon. However, instead of the signature crack of the deadly firearm, all that could be heard was the click of an empty gun. Levi grinned.

“Someone isn't counting.” said the Jedi coyly. As soon as the words left his lips, the Kiffar swiped the firearm away from Seth with his left hand, while grabbing his lightsaber with his right. The bright yellow blade sprung to life with a snap-hiss, and was raised to the Odanite’s throat.

“Next time a Jedi surrenders to you, don't betray his trust.” said Levi firmly, shoving the blade in Seth’s face even more. The human nodded quickly, still eyeing the bag of credits. The Jedi sighed, and switched off the blade.

“Even in the face of death, you still think of money. Pathetic.” muttered Levi as he turned to leave the club. “Arrivederci.”

The Reynolds barked and spat fire, the slug exploding from the barrel on a beeline for the Mystic’s skull. But, almost like he knew the shot was coming, Levi managed to dance out of the way. The bullet missed by centimetres, slamming into the far wall with a thud. Zetta turned on his attacker, brandishing his sulfurous yellow blade and ready for the next attack.

Danner began to backpedal, firing his pistols as he did so. Zetta twisted left and right, Seth’s bullets missing the mark every time, until one finally managed to find its mark. The hot metal slug punched into the meaty flesh of the Mystic’s right thigh, the force knocking his leg out from under him. Leaping back over the bar the smuggler quickly reloaded his firearms and slid them into their holsters before activating the comm unit strapped to his wrist.

“Moe, are you there?” the Odanite asked.

“Where else would I be?” the droid replied with more than a little sarcasm in its metallic voice. “You never take me anywhere.”

In an annoyed tone Seth said, “Would you shut up and listen. I need you to home in on me and bring the Syren in as close as possible, and be ready for my signal.”

“Signal?” the droid asked. “What signal?”

Danner could see the Palatinaean rising slowly to his feet as he said, “You'll know it when you see it.”

Zetta was back on his feet and moving forward, his right leg dragging behind him slightly. Levi was within six feet of the Odanite when he leapt high into the air, his lightsaber held over his head, poised to strike down with all his strength. But Seth was just a little too quick. In a flash the smuggler’s right hand was on the grip of his slugthrower. The weapon cleared the leather holster, fired, and was back inside its resting place within the space of a heartbeat.

The hot metal round punched into the Palatinaean’s flesh, ripping through skin and muscle and organs, lodging itself somewhere inside Zetta’s gut. The Mystic hit the floor, his lightsaber falling from his grip. Clutching at his perforated flesh Levi did his best to concentrate, calling on the Force to deaden the pain in his torso. The smuggler kicked the now deactivated lightsaber away and turned back to his opponent.

Looking over at the Mystic bleeding on the floor Seth said, “Gut shot's a horrible way to go. I'd say you got maybe an hour ‘fore you're dead.”

“This isn't over smuggler, I'll find you one day,” Levi spat back through gritted teeth, his face drenched in sweat, his skin pale.

“Good luck with that,” Seth replied as he turned away from Zetta. “Moe are you in position?” he asked the droid.

“In position and awaiting your signal,” the droid answered.

Without another word Seth strode toward the wall of floor to ceiling windows and fired. The glass splintered as the rounds punched through. Picking up speed, Danner ran as fast and as hard as his legs would carry him, dropping his shoulder as he charged into the broken window. Glass exploded outwards as Seth hit it sending him tumbling into the canyons of Nar Shaddaa. He fell a good twenty feet before coming to a stop with a thump on the hull of his ship, the Syren, the air exploding from his lungs. The smuggler dragged himself across the hull to the top hatch and fell inside.

“That was one hell of a signal,” shouted Moe.

With a sigh Seth wheezed “Just shut up and get us outta here,” as he headed for what passed for a captain’s cabin to pass out.