Updated: Mar 11
The official Star Wars website has released a preview for the upcoming book "Star Wars: Canto Bight," which is a part of the JOURNEY TO STAR WARS: THE LAST JEDI series. The book is written by Saladin Ahmed, Rae Carson, Mira Grant, and John Jackson Miller. I've posted part of the excerpt below.
Vestry clasped both her pairs of hands. “Master Sonmi, you work for the casino. We work for the casino. Exactly who profits from you sitting here alone for another ten hours?” She pointed. “Go home.”
“I don’t have a—”
“Then eat something. But go.”
Kal’s throat went dry as he saw Minn’s hands move toward the undealt cards, ready to dispose of the decks. Please, don’t—
“Oooh, it’s zinbiddle!”
Kal turned to see a diminutive reptilian in a formal black coat, accentuated with a dazzling stellabora lapel bloom. The green-skinned creature flashed a smile so broad it nearly bisected his face as he dropped a fat tray of coins onto the tabletop to Kal’s right. “Deal me in,” he said, hopping up into the chair beside Kal.
Kal stared at the ebullient arrival, mystified, before looking to the dealer, who suspended her cleanup. He told Vestry, “I guess I’m in luck.”
The pit boss stared silently at the players. Kal could swear he saw her mouth form the words, That’s what you think.
“I was at the yacht races,” the newcomer said. “Were you at the yacht races?”
“You should have been at the yacht races.” He offered a chubby green hand. “Dodibin. Dodi for short—but don’t call me that.”
“Don’t call you Dodi?”
“Don’t call me short.” He looked stern for a moment—and then laughed. “And you are Kaljach.”
Lucky guess, he began to say, before remembering his badge. “Kal is fine.” He watched as the Suerton—the species he thought Dodi was—unloaded his chips. Then Dodi pushed a large stack onto the instant-win marker, a side bet the casino covered from its rake.
“That’s a long shot,” Kal said.
“Excellent.” Chipper, Dodi rocked back and forth in his chair as Minn started dealing.
It was no skin off Kal’s nonexistent nose; the side bet was against the house, not him. Though he would have loved to cover it, because there was no greater joy than taking money off someone too stupid to—
Kal gawked. “You got it?”
Dodi flipped up his cards, all in the proper suit and sequence. “Dealt pat.”
Kal hadn’t even looked at his cards yet. He quickly did, and took note of what Dodi had shown, before Minn recovered them all. That was the risk in riding “final station,” the seat on the dealer’s right; Kal saw more cards that way, but occasionally an instant winner would cut a hand short. Fortunately, the odds said that wouldn’t happen very—
“Zinbiddle,” Dodi chirped.