Et Tu, Broot? Part 2

Posted on Wed 28th Sep, 2022 @ 4:55pm by Criswell Sandbags & Kya Adtanis & Carlo Rienzi

1,425 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: The Hunted
Location: Qaraq's Casino, Brown Sector
Timeline: MD 6, 2100 hours

Meanwhile at the Blackjack tables ....

"I'm supposed to split Aces right?"

The table groaned audibly, Kya was guessing and the card counters at the table couldn't account for chaos. She seemed a nice enough lady, but their coins were going to the house. The handsome man at her side showed she was out on a social call, so finally one of the other old grizzled players spoke up.

"Dammit, Woman! It's all of us against the house, but you keep messing up the shoe! Can you just keep your mouth shut and not take all of the luck off the table?"

His friend sitting next to the unpleasant man wasn't so inebriated, a hand shot to the sleeve and pulled him back into his seat as a pit boss moved closer to observe. Kya smirked, aware of her effect on the man, the cards didnt matter, she liked to rile up assholes, it was a treat.

Reon was glad he was sitting between Kya and the drunk gambler. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered. "Yes, you can, and when this hand is finished, maybe we need to move tables. I don't like the company here much." He leaned back and looked around at the surrounding tables. Maybe this wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. Maybe it was time for dinner, or at least the dessert he'd promised Kya earlier ... one she didn't have to make herself. He scratched his cards on the table as the dealer came around to him again.

Kya looked at him with a sideways glance, "Arthur is harmless, I just like to poke the bear." To the dealer she said, "Split, hit, hit, stay, hit, stay." She nodded in self-satisfaction at the 19 and 21.

Having seen this interaction between players, Criswell approached the table from behind them but said nothing and did not make his presence known... yet. He'd been counting the amount of times the man was losing. He was up to four, and the agitated man grew more agitated each time. Criswell did his best to stay unnoticed, but he had to watch the game carefully.

After he was dealt a card that put him over 21, Reon sat back and watched the rest of the table play. He also glanced around the area and to the bar on their right, a little further back in the space around the tables. For a moment, he thought he recognized the back of a customer sitting at the bar, but his attention was drawn back to the table as final cards were dealt.

Kya wasn't a proficient gambler, the counting wasn't her skill set. She was having a blast though, and this crabbypants wasn't moving her from the one game she halfway knew how to play. On Arthur's turn, he made a show of tapping the felt in exasperation as though he had been waiting for too long. Kya pretended not to notice, arranging her chips in different stacks and shuffling them around. While she enjoyed the clinks of the clay discs, it was having a less than pleasant effect on Arthur.

Next to Arthur, a sixteen was a stay. The other grizzled woman at the table hadn't said a word to anyone but cursed as she busted.

Arthur had gotten an attitude, half of his chips were lost by this time and he was glaring at Kya who he blamed for the loss. He made a vow to the capricious gods of Vice, that he would not leave this chair til he got every cent back.

By Criswell's count, that was time number five the man he now knew was Arthur Brogan had lost. Thus far, the man he'd talked to earlier that day, the one with the weird cat who went by Gary Thirteen, had been correct in his predictions. Criswell knew he had to do something after the next hand. If Arthur lost a sixth time, Criswell needed to be sure he left the table of his own volition. Gary had been specific of that fact. The urgency in which Gary had talked to Criswell, and the odd knowledge the stranger had of him, seemed to Criswell like the weight of the universe rested on his poor shoulders. He watched the next hand with bated breath.

Kya got sixteen from the jump, but the dealer had a four and a two. She took a whole five seconds before saying, "hit." A three got her nineteen, and she took nearly ten seconds to say "hit" again. It was nearly ten seconds because Arthur blew an exasperated breath muttering unpleasant versions of, "Hurry Up" before his neighbor tried to calm him. When Kya got a King and busted, Arthur threw his cards down.

Arthur whispered loudly intent for all to hear. "You see Troy, amateur's guessing, I told ya." Dropping pretense, he laughed and looked Reon in the eye. "That was YOUR KING Bucko!"

With a half smile, Reon said, "Apparently not, since I already went over, and Kya got the King. But a winner is always gracious, right?"

Glaring at Kya while Troy was motioning for another card, Arthur's cards made ten, Troy had nine. He settled at seventeen, Arthur got twenty. Dealer made 21, and Arthur Brogan lost, but then again, so did everybody. When his old lady left, Arthur was visibly happy. The man wasn't complicated, just a product of rejection and a turgid disdain of women had caused this withered soul to become very jaded and suffering from solitude. What was about to happen was a well-fueled alcohol rant venting his rage at circumstance.

Loss number six, thought Criswell, but he hesitated to do anything just yet. The strange man known as Gary Thirteen had told him that Arthur must make the decision to leave the table on his own. His losing streak seemed like a given, but Arthur clearly wasn't done yet. Another factor was the other players at the table. Might they do something to influence the man's decision? Could Criswell do something? Criswell knew he couldn't ask or tell Arthur to leave, but what about a gentle nudge in that direction?

Criswell watched as the poor drunken fool took a handsome gulp from his rum and Coke. He walked by and "bumped" into Arthur. Criswell realized his bump had been too late. Arthur had already set the drink on the table. Trying to think fast, Criswell said, "Watch it, boo-head!" Criswell hadn't thought fast enough to come up with a mean enough insult, but he thought "boo-head" might be enough to agitate the man.

Arthur was the type to make dramatic scenes, so even nearly having a drink spilled on him, and getting jostled rudely was just ammunition for the petty narcissist. He had really had enough, though. Troy was laughing at the funny name, and Arthur wasn't sure what a "boo-head" was, but it was a vernacular that sounded like an insult, so he took it as such. Kya's gentle laughter was somehow the most enraging, he really didn't like the little Bajoran.

"Of all the... this is rich. Sir?! Are you the manager here?" Arthur left his seat to chase Criswell and Troy let him go. Arthur was a handful after a few drinks, and now he had a reason to be angry. It was time to cash in and leave, so he did as well. It left Kya and Reon at the table with just the dealer. Elsewhere, the cosmology of space and time shifted colors as a series of events begun by Arthur overstaying his welcome and getting kicked out changed what would have ended in catastrophe for billions of people.

Criswell's mission was complete, but there was still the loose end of Arthur's drunken rage. Fortunately, two security officers reached Arthur before the man could catch up. Criswell hoped the outcome of this charade had been for the good of the universe, but how did he know that assisting Gary Thirteen had been a good thing? He wasn't sure he'd want to now either way. Well, hopefully Qaraq's Casino had seen the last of Gary Thirteen.

Behind him, a calico cat made its way to the casino's exit.

Reon looked at Kya and asked, "Have you had enough gambling? Ready for that steak dinner? Or a drink at the bar first?"

Kya looked with a gentle smile, "Yes, blackjack is not for me... but..." she took a pause to be flirtatious in her follow up clause, "What kind of desserts does your replicator make?"

 

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