by K. Rowe
Ah, Regia, Dar pondered. She was the most intense Elemenel he’d ever joined with. When all was said and done, Regia wanted to pay him for his services. He happily declined, stating that he joined of his own free will, and it felt fantastic. A few years later, he returned to Thokin and sought her out. To his dismay, she’d life-joined with a male and was expecting her first youngling. Dar wondered if perhaps he loved her but kept denying it. She filled his dreams many nights after their one night of passion.
He glanced up and noticed two males approaching. One was a Sirrixian, and the other, perhaps a half breed Skrinnian. “Hey, are you interested in some action?” the half breed asked.
“Action of what sorts?” Dar replied warily.
“You look like an alien of means, how about a game of Sirrixian poker?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know how to play.”
“Oh, come on, we’ll show you,” the Sirrixian said.
Dar felt unsure if this was a ploy to get him out of the bar so they could mug him. Space stations weren’t the safest places to be. He reached back and made sure his trusty knife was there. “Where are we going?”
“Just to that table over there. No tricks, my friend.”
He looked past them and saw a table with three other aliens sitting around it. They held cards and appeared to be playing a game. “Uh, okay,” he said, feeling safer that he would still be in the bar. Getting up, he followed them.
“What’s your name, youngling?” the Sirrixian asked.
“Youngling? I’m not that young…And the name’s Dar.”
“You’re the youngest here.”
“So?”
“So, Dar, where do you come from?” the half breed Skrinnian took a seat.
“I’m part of Gwog’s crew on the Cunik.” He’d learned that by dropping the name of his employer usually meant they didn’t start trouble with him. Gwog was a powerful adversary if he had reason to get his dander up. Not many in the galaxy would tangle with him.
“Ah, a good ship,” the Sirrixian replied, settling into his chair.
Dar took the empty one. “Been crew over ten years.”
“So Gwog has two half breed Satirens on his crew,” another member of the table said.
“Yeah, me and Jartis.”
“Oh, this is Dar,” the Sirrixian announced. “And I suppose we should introduce ourselves. I’m Fornak.”
“Pregid,” the half breed Skrinnian said. “And to my right is Boknas, he’s from Viguris.”
“Yes, I’ve been there a time or two,” Dar replied. “By chance do you know a Vuopious?”
“Why yes, I do. He runs the parts store in my village. I haven’t seen him in years,” the big, hairy Vigurian Clapsor said in a deep voice. Dar liked the Clapsors. Despite their imposing stature, they were surprisingly gentle, very intelligent, and caring aliens. He pointed to the alien next to him. “And this is my friend, Conik, he’s from Coreonis.”
“Nice to meet you,” Dar said politely. “I’ve never been to Coreonis.”
“It’s a lovely planet.” The alien replied. He was tall, skinny, had grayish skin with large, circular, thickened plates that were green in color. His black eyes bulged from stalks rooted to his forehead. His mouth came out like the bill of a drukk—a type of water game fowl found on many planets. He had long, razor sharp claws on his fingers.
“Perhaps we’ll stop there one day.”
Fornak pointed to the last member at the table. “That’s Oogik, he’s a half breed Temprician.”
Dar nodded. “So, please, explain how you play this game.”
“You will be dealt five cards,” Fornak said, gathering them up from the center of the table. He put them together in a stack, then fanned his hand across the table laying them out, face up. “You have four different cities in which to mate your cards: Harkot, Spearik, Clugik, and Dimmant.”
He studied the cards. “Yes, I see.”
“Now, you have cards of more value,” Fornak pulled out several to show him. “If you get these, they are better.”
Dar looked around the table, noting the expressions of the rest of the players. Gwog had taught him how to recognize a liar—in most cases. He reached out and grabbed five high cards of the same city. “What does it mean if I get this?”
The whole table erupted in laughter. “Then you beat us!” Conik laughed.
He placed the cards back in the deck. “We have a similar game on Erotis, I think I get the idea.”
“So, you wish to play, youngling?” Fornak asked.
“How much is the bet?”
“Open for ten drig.”
Dar reached in his pocket and brought out a few drig. He had much more on him, but he wasn’t going to let them know that. He slid one thin strip out. “Right, here’s my ten.”
Fornak took the cards, shuffled, and passed them out. The others at the table placed their bids in the center. Dar figured he’d watch for a while until he made sure he knew what a good hand was. As his cards were tossed in front of him, he waited for the others. When they picked up theirs, he followed, not wanting to possibly spoil the game by not playing right.
Looking at the cards he was dealt, Dar didn’t think he had much of a chance. They appeared to be low cards, two were the same in number, but different cities. He wasn’t sure what to do. On Erotis, those cards would be kept, and he’d be allowed to discard others to try and get better ones.
“Well, youngling?” Fornak said. “Have you usable cards?”
“Uh, I think so.”
“Have you some that are no good?”
“Mmm, three, yes,” he replied.
“You may toss them down and I’ll give you three more.”
Dar perked up. “Oh, this is very much like Erotin chokker.” He put three down and Fornak gave him replacements. Picking up the cards, he realized he wasn’t in any better shape.
“Did that help?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Then if you feel you cannot play with a reasonable chance, you may put your cards down and cease.”
“I’ll cease for this hand.” He dropped his cards on the table face down. The rest of the table played on, Dar watched and learned. After a few minutes, it looked clear that Boknas and Pregid were in a bidding war. Both must have good hands, Dar thought.
“I raise you fifty,” Boknas said, dropping some gold strips in the center.
“Hah! I see your fifty, and will add another fifty,” Pregid replied, tossing his bet into the middle.
“Getting a little excited, Pregid?” Fornak asked. “You must have a sterling hand.”
“Shut up, Fornak. Let me play.” He fiddled with his cards. “I think I’ve bet enough. Boknas, what do you have?”
The Clapsor gently laid down his cards. “I have three high royals in one city, and a pair of tens.”
“Oh,” Pregid said softly. He waited a moment before laying his hand down. “I have four royals—each pairs, from two different cities, and one loosing card.”
Boknas nodded. “A victory for you, my friend.”
He reached forward and pulled the pile of drig toward him. “Are you in for the next round, Dar?”
“Yes, I think so.” Taking another ten drig strip, he dropped it in the center. “I shall wish for better cards this time.”
Conik shook his head. “Keep wishing all you want!
After several hands, Dar was feeling more comfortable. His betting increased, and he even won a couple of hands. It was Boknas’s turn to deal. The cards were dealt, and Dar picked his up. He swallowed hard, trying not to make any excited gestures. His hand was a good one.
“Who is betting?” Fornak asked, dropping twenty drig into the middle. “I’ll give twenty to start.”
Dar figured his hand was safe. “I’ll make your twenty and add fifty.”
Conik moved his cards around in his hand. “I shall make all that, and add one hundred.”
Boknas and Pregid decided not to play, they placed thei
r cards down. Dar debated on just how good his hand was. “I make your one hundred, and I’ll add three hundred.” There were a few gasps heard from the others.
“Getting a little full of yourself, youngling?” Fornak counted out his bet. “I’ll make your bet and add…Oh, a thousand.” He looked at Conik. “Are you betting?”
“Yes, I am…Make a thousand, add four thousand!”
Now Dar was wondering if he’d gotten in too deep. He checked his cards—nope, it was a fantastic hand. “I’ll make all that, and add ten thousand.” Counting it all out, he dropped it in the center. Then he dug in his pocket and brought out more drig.
“Ten thousand? Hmm, you must have a great hand—or you’re bluffing!” Fornak teased, matching the bet. “If you’re bluffing, youngling, you’re gonna be sorry.” He pushed the rest of his strips to the middle. “That’s fifteen thousand to make.”
Conik counted strips. “I make that fifteen, and add twenty more.”
Dar’s throat went dry. He tried to swallow but couldn’t. Thirty-five thousand drig to make on this bet. Did he want to chance it? The gleaming pile of gold strips beckoned to him. It’s only drig, he thought, I can earn more if I lose. And if I lose, I’ll learn my lesson—expensive as it will be. Carefully sliding his cards together and placing them on the table, Dar counted out the strips. “I make your thirty-five and will add…fifty more.”
“Youngling, are you out of your mind?!” Fornak gasped. He looked at his cards. “I can’t make that bet. I’m out.” He lay his cards down and sat back in his chair.
“Well, Dar, it’s just you and me,” Conik said as he counted out strips. “Although I don’t seem to have enough gold to cover.” He reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small rolled piece of paper tied with a neat red ribbon. “But this should cover my bet.” He placed it in the pile.
“What is it?” Dar asked.
“Title.”
“Title to what?”
“I assure you its value is far more than the bet I’m covering.”
“Then why risk it?”
Conik shrugged his shoulders. “I am a gambler, plain and simple. I think what I hold is better than yours.”
“Are you going to cease?” Boknas tried to see his cards.
“I can raise no more, Dar.”
“Then show your cards,” Fornak said, motioning to Conik.
“All right. I hold five cards, in order, from the same city.” He laid them down for all to see. There were excited remarks about the hand.
Fornak looked at Dar. “Youngling?”
Dar was silent for a moment. Yes, Conik’s hand was good—very good. But he felt confident his was a bit better. One by one, he started placing his cards on the table. When they were all laid out, he looked at Fornak. “Isn’t that better?”
He coughed when he saw the hand. “Five royals of the same city! The youngling wasn’t bluffing!” There was a round of applause for Dar.
Conik nodded politely, acknowledging his loss. “Congratulations, Dar. A very good hand indeed…You’ll find your prize at dock seven.” With that, he got up and left.
Dar scooped his arms around the pile of drig and pulled it to himself. The rolled paper sat on top. He studied it for a moment, wondering what was inside.
“Well, youngling, are you going to see what you’ve won?”
“I’m a little afraid. Could he be lying about this?” He held up the paper.
“Conik is a fair one when it comes to business. Yes, he gambles, but he will always cover his bets. If he says that paper is worth more than his bet, take his word,” Fornak said as he stood and stretched.
Dar took the paper off the top of the pile, slid the ribbon off, and opened it. His eyes went wide.
14
“Gwog! Gwog! Wake up!” Dar pounded on the door of Gwog’s cabin. “Wake up!” He pounded some more.
A few moments later he opened the door. “What’s going on with you? Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”
“Look!” He held up the small piece of paper.
Gwog rubbed his eyes and squinted. “What am I looking at?”
“Title!”
He snatched the paper from Dar. “Title to what?”
“The Marsuian!”
“The what?”
“The Marsuian. She’s over on dock seven…You must come!”
Gwog yawned and tried to wake up. “Little one, just how did you come about this title?”
“I won it in a game of Sirrixian poker.”
“Shame on you, I thought I taught you better than that. Gambling is a sure way to lose all your hard earned drig.”
“I know, and I was prepared to learn that lesson. But I had a lucky hand, and I won. I won her!”
“Have you at least seen this prize?” He went back and started to dress.
“Uh, kinda. I went upstairs to the astro-observation deck and could see a little of her.”
“But you’ve yet to step foot inside?”
“I wanted you to come with me.”
Gwog finished dressing and followed Dar to the dock. They stopped just short of the access tunnel where several large windows allowed viewing of the ships. “You’re sure this is it?” Gwog asked.
“He said dock seven.” He focused his eyes on the bow of the ship. “See, it says Marsuian on it.”
“Oh,” Gwog groaned. “I’ve never even heard of this ship.” He stepped closer to the window, giving the vessel a good looking over. “Little one, it appears that you’ve won a bucket of bolts.”
Dar brought his arm up, resting his forearm against the window and leaning his head against it. “Is she worthless?”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t say that. But she’s certainly not ready to handle the Soothians if they should try and attack you.” He tugged on Dar’s jacket. “Let’s go have a look inside.”
They went down the tunnel and into the ship. Gwog expected it to look worse than it was. All the metal grated catwalks seemed in reasonable shape. He climbed the steep stairs to the bridge, Dar right behind him. The bridge was sparse and stark compared to the Cunik. The Marsuian had only one reasonably sized control console in the middle, and a captain’s chair a little further back and off to one side. Instead of a solid floor, it was covered in metal grates. It was mostly painted black, with a large window facing out the front. “So, what do you think?” Dar asked.
Gwog stopped at the control console and looked out the window. “I’d say that you’re now the captain of the Marsuian.”
Dar went forward and stood at the railing. Gazing down through an observation window, he could see the control area for the forward cargo bay, and much of the actual bay itself. “Captain Dar Meltom…I like the sound of that.”
“I figured one day you’d have a ship of your own. I just didn’t expect it now.”
“Well, I guess I do.” He joined Gwog at the console. “Look.” He pointed to the controls. “Talk about fate, they’re all written in Satiren!”
“Aye, that they are…Perhaps that’s why the ship was put up as a bet…From whom did you win her from?”
“Conik, a Coreonian.”
“Perhaps that explains it. He can’t read Satiren.” Gwog walked around. “I bet he won her from someone else, and then realized he couldn’t pilot her. So he decided to get rid of her in the game.”
“You think so?”
“That’s my guess, for all it’s worth.”
They continued their tour of the ship. Gwog checked the warp engine and what few weapons there were. When they finally reached the stern of the ship Gwog stopped. “All right, little one, do you want my honest opinion?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Actually, she’s not a bad ship. There’s lots that needs to be done to bring her up to modern standards…Like retrofitting the cargo bays to accommodate the new tie-down systems; and some repairs to catwalks here and there. The warp engine is sorely lacking, and what weapons you have are twenty years outdated.”
“I’d get jump
ed by the pirates my first time out, huh?”
“You can bet on it.”
“How much do you think it would cost to fix her up?”
Gwog leaned against a support column. “How much do you have?”
“Umm…” He scratched his head. “Including everything I just won—about three hundred thousand.”
“That won’t get you much, little one.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Maybe I can just buy some better cannons and hope my luck holds out with the pirates until I can earn enough to do the upgrades.”
“I don’t recommend that course of action.”
“Well, what can I do? I can’t just leave her docked here while I go off and try to earn more drig. I’ll be paying like crazy for dock fees.”
“Come back to the Cunik with me.” Gwog led the way. Dar wondered what he had in mind. They went to his private cabin. “It seems the day has come that you’ll be leaving me.”
“I guess so,” Dar said softly.
“In the beginning, I didn’t want to take you.”
“Yes, I know, my mother begged you.”
“But after all these years, I’m glad I did…I told her I wasn’t going to treat you like a new youngling, and I wasn’t going to be a father to you either.” He knelt down next to his desk. “But it seems that as hard as I tried not to be a father, I was.” Pushing aside a small cabinet, he grabbed a handle and pulled a section of the floor up. “I guess I can’t fault myself for acting as your father. You were the son I never had.”
