Intergalactic conquest with an AI

"By the way," Rex said casually, glancing at Ys as the trio strolled across the bustling casino floor, weaving between rows of flashing machines and excited gamblers.

Ys was walking on his left; her arm looped lightly around his as if staking her claim. "What were you two arguing about earlier? Something about instinct versus statistics?"

"Oh, that?" Ys smirked, puffing her chest out slightly as if she had already won the debate.

"It's simple, darling. Cleo here keeps insisting that the best way to win at these games is to use probabilities, statistics, and all that boring nonsense. But I say it's all about instinct! You just know where to bet if you've got good instincts. It's a gut thing, you know?"

Cleo, walking on Rex's other side with her usual composed grace, didn't even open her eyes as she replied. "Instinct is just a euphemism for guessing," she said calmly, her tone tinged with a hint of superiority.

"These games are designed with probabilities in mind. Winning is a matter of understanding the logic behind them, not trusting your 'gut.'"

"Tsk, there you go again!" Ys said, shooting Cleo a glare. "You're so stuck up with your data and calculations. Are you seriously too arrogant to admit you're wrong for once?"

"Hmph," Cleo responded, finally opening one eye to glance at Ys. "Right back at you. You're the one in the wrong this time, as always."

The two women locked eyes, the tension crackling between them like static electricity. Rex, caught in the middle, both literally and figuratively, could already see where this was going.

And, sure enough, Ys turned to him, grabbing his arm. "Darling～! Who do you think is right? Clearly, you agree with me, don't you?" She said, her cat-like grin practically daring Cleo to react.

Cleo didn't miss a beat. "No need to ask him," she said coolly. "I know he'll side with logic. He's not reckless enough to endorse Ys's, shall we say, 'imaginative' approach to gambling."

Rex paused for dramatic effect, a small smirk spreading across his face. "Well, ladies," he said, looking between the two of them, "I hate to break it to you, but neither of you are right."

Both women stopped dead in their tracks, staring at him in unison. "What?!" they said at the same time, their voices filled with disbelief.

"The truth is," Rex said, crossing his arms and putting on an exaggeratedly smug expression, "the only thing you really need to win at games like this... is pure, unadulterated luck."

"I disagree!" Cleo and Ys shouted in unison, their protests echoing through the casino.

Rex chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands.

"How about this? Let's settle this once and for all with a little competition. We'll head to the blackjack table. Each of us will start with 100,000 credits. After 10 rounds, whoever has the most credits wins. And to make things interesting, the losers will have to face a punishment."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Ys's eyes lit up at the word "punishment." "Oh, now this I like. What's the punishment, darling～?"

Rex's grin widened. "Every time you lose, you take a shot of the strongest liquor they have at the bar. And none of that cheating by using your desintoxication abilities to sober up. You drink; you deal with it. That goes for both of you."

Y's smirk grew. "Deal!"

Cleo hesitated for only a moment before giving a confident nod. "I accept. Though I hope you're prepared to lose, Rex." Find your next read on empire

"Alright then," Rex said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's do this."

The trio made their way to the nearest blackjack table, where Rex's bold declaration immediately drew attention. A small crowd began to gather, intrigued by the energy of the group. Some joined in as players, while others stood back to watch the spectacle unfold.

The game began, and the rounds flew by. Sometimes Rex won, sometimes he lost, though he always seemed to be having fun, even as his face reddened from the growing number of shots he'd taken.

Cleo played with her usual calculating precision, analyzing every hand and glaring daggers at the dealer when the odds didn't go her way. Ys, on the other hand, played with reckless abandon, trusting her instincts and loudly celebrating every win, no matter how small.

By the ninth round, the three of them were already visibly tipsy. Cleo, though still composed, had a faint flush on her cheeks. Ys was grinning more than usual, her voice a little louder and slurred at the edges. And Rex? Rex was grinning like an idiot, clearly feeling the effects of the liquor.

The crowd around the table had grown considerably, with people cheering them on or placing their own side bets on who would come out on top. The energy in the air was electric.

"Alright, this is it!" Rex announced, slamming the rest of his credits onto the table for the tenth and final round. "Let's bet everything we've got! Go big or go home!"

"Let's do it!" Ys shouted, her enthusiasm infectious.

"I'm in," Cleo said, her competitive streak shining through.

The other players at the table, caught up in the moment, also pushed their chips forward, creating a massive pot of over five million credits.

The dealer dealt the final hands, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. One by one, the players revealed their cards.

"Oh no, I lost!" groaned a man with six points.

"Guess I'm out," said another, busting with 28 points.

It was Ys's turn. She dramatically slapped her cards onto the table, revealing 19 points. "Hah! Beat that!" she said, grinning triumphantly.

Cleo raised an eyebrow and revealed her hand: 20 points. "Easily done," she said with a small smirk. "I suppose that makes me the winner."

But before she could bask in her victory, Rex leaned back in his chair, putting on an overly dramatic pose. "Not so fast, my dear wife," he said, dragging out the suspense. "The real winner is... me!"

With a flourish, he revealed his cards: an Ace and a King. "21 points! Blackjack, baby!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter as Rex stood up, raising his hands like a champion. "I told you all! The only thing you need to win is luck!"

And then, without warning, he wobbled slightly, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. "Uh oh..." was all he managed to say before collapsing onto the floor in a drunken heap and completely passing out.

Cleo and Ys stared down at him, their expressions a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Well," Cleo said dryly, folding her arms. "I hope he enjoys his 'luck' when he wakes up with a hangover."

Ys just laughed, crouching down to poke his cheek. "You gotta admit, though, he earned that win. Too bad he couldn't stay awake to celebrate it."

The crowd dispersed, still chuckling and talking about the wild game, leaving Cleo and Ys to figure out how they were going to haul their drunken champion back to their suite.

As the morning cycle began aboard the cruiser, the artificial environment came to life. The holographic sky displayed a breathtaking 4D sunrise, complete with warm golden rays and a serene blue backdrop.

Soft bird-like chirps echoed faintly throughout the corridors, enhancing the illusion of a peaceful morning. The sunlight streamed through the luxurious windows of the suites, gently coaxing passengers from their slumber.

Carlos groaned softly as the light hit his face, causing him to stir. He rubbed his temples, his eyes still half-shut, before muttering, "Mmm, where the hell am I?"

He blinked a few times, his brain slowly catching up with reality. A sharp throbbing in his skull reminded him of the previous night. "Damn, just how much did I drink yesterday?" he muttered, massaging his temples to combat the pounding hangover.

His surroundings didn't look familiar. The room he was in was lavish, with soft silken sheets, a massive king-sized bed, and elegant decor that looked far more extravagant than his VIP suite. Golden-framed paintings hung on the walls, and a faint floral scent lingered in the air.

"Wait... seriously, where the hell am I? This definitely isn't my room," Carlos said, squinting at the unfamiliar furnishings.

When he tried to sit up, he felt something... someone wrapped around him. His heart skipped a beat as he frozen.

A soft weight pressed against his chest, and a pair of arms were draped loosely over his torso. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly, very slowly, lifted the edge of the blankets to see what, or who, was holding him.

"..."

Carlos's eyes widened as he stared at the figure curled up next to him. Long golden hair spilled across the pillow like a shimmering river, and her delicate feline-like ears twitched slightly as she shifted in her sleep.

Her bare shoulders peeked out from under the covers, rising and falling with each soft breath she took. Her face, relaxed in slumber, looked impossibly serene, and unnervingly familiar.

"Oh shit…" Carlos whispered, his voice barely audible. He felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck as the memories of last night started to trickle back into his mind, though they were blurry at best.

His inner monologue went into overdrive. "Okay, okay, calm down, Carlos. Think. Don't panic. Who is this? Oh no… wait. Is this... Sharon?!" He glanced again at the sleeping woman, her lynx-like ears twitching slightly as if in response to his racing thoughts. Yep. That's definitely Sharon. The lady from the nightclub.