Freedom and Chains
He raised an eyebrow. Radically different from his old self though he was, the expression looked strangely familiar on his face. “Go on,” he prompted with a nod.
Her demeanor was troubling, as there was something more than mere confidence there— mischief, also, if he had to put a name to it. But he was also more than a little curious what she had up her sleeve.
“It’s an old, mmm, variant,” she purred. “From Nar Shadda, where I learned it. It’s called “strip dejarik”… And it’s rather self explanatory. For every peice lost on the board, a peice is lost on the body. I can’t tell you the number of times I literally stole the clothes from thier backs,” Ventress smirked.
“Consider it a bit of not-so-innocent fun before we go abour conquering the galaxy. All work and no play makes for a very dull boy, my dear.”
He leaned back in his seat, a slow smile growing across his face. It was admittedly an intriguing proposition, and it would certainly add a fresh take to an old man’s game.
“Very well,” he agreed, initializing his panel and starting the game. It was his move first— he activated his kintran strider, going for the kintran strider death gambit, a widely renowned tactic among skilled players of the game.
She smiled at his acceptance and settled herself. Ventress leaned forward and watched him, a small smirk on her face as he made a classic opening move.
A twitch of her fingers, and she activated her krayt dragon to intercept him in a sneak attack. The holographic figure roared and lunged. Massive jaws and teeth shredded the rider as his tinny screams echoed in the dining hall.
“Love that realism,” she snarked. Ventress leaned back, hand behind her head. “One for me. Take it off, my dear.”
