Dar's Adventures in Space 1: Space Crazy (14 page)

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 their 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 jumped 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.”

Dar felt a lump form in his throat. Now, at age twenty-eight, he felt an incredible bond with Gwog. “I feel honored that you called me crew; and even more honored that you’d think of me as son.”

“You were one of my best, you’ll be hard to replace.” He reached in and unlocked a heavy metal door, pulling it open. Getting down onto his hands and knees, he leaned in and started bringing out huge, bound stacks of gold drig. “This should get the Marsuian fixed up.”

“I can’t take that!” Dar stared at the pile.

“You can, and you will…This is not a free gift, little one. I expect this paid back in time.” He closed the safe, collected the bundles of drig, and sat down at the desk. “I will write you a letter of reference. You show this to those who would like your services. My name, as you know, is known throughout the galaxy; and it’s a good name—don’t bring shame upon it.”

“No, sir!”

Gwog scribbled a letter, rolled it, and tied it with a piece of string. “Here’s three million drig. Get that sorry looking ship to Newrillis and have them fix her up proper. If there’s not enough to cover, ask to speak to Gorrin Algok, show him this letter, and he’ll give you a line of credit. Pay back the Newrillians before you pay me. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

He stood and faced Dar. “Should you ever want, or need to come back, there’s a job for you and a bunk to lay your head…I can say it has been an honor to have you as crew.”

“Thank you, sir!”

“Now, I highly recommend you find yourself a good engineer. With a ship of that age, you’re gonna need one—and maybe a deck hand or two in the future.” He offered his hand. “Good luck, captain.”

Dar paused a moment before taking it. The flood of emotions going on inside him was almost out of control. “Thank you, sir,” he said softly.

“You know, with a ship of your own, you’re competition.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“How about we stay friendly over the whole thing?”

“What do you mean?” Dar asked.

“I much prefer to do business on the light side of the galaxy. That leaves the dark side for you.”

“You won’t take offence if I have to make a delivery to your side, will you?”

Gwog smiled. “Not in the slightest. In fact, it would be good to see you once in a while.”

Dar met his smile with one of his own. “Yes, it would be.”

“Run along now, captain, your ship awaits.”

“I must say my good-byes here.”

“Hurry up before your docking fees get any higher.” He picked up the stacks of drig and held it out to Dar. “Have Jartis help get your things to the Marsuian—and don’t be stealing my engineer!”

Dar laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it!”

After all the good-byes had been said, Jartis accompanied Dar to the Marsuian. “I can’t believe you’re leaving us,” the engineer said.

“I kinda can’t either. The Cunik’s been my home for so many years.”

“I’m gonna miss you—I hate to say it, but you were like a son to me.”

Dar chuckled. “I seem to be a son to many: you, Gwog, Wenin, Barnig, Vikkis, Julaton, and Karnis. But Xetroiss considered me brother.”

“You two were close in age.”

They stopped at the viewing windows. “Well, there she is.” Dar pointed.

Jartis peered out the window. “What’s her dimensions?”

“Frankly, I don’t know.”

He sat Dar’s things down, and with his fingers, made some strange movements. “I calculate her to be half a mile long and about a quarter mile wide.”

“You think so?”

Jartis held up his hand. “I know so.”

“Certainly not the Cunik’s proportions, but I’m sure she’ll do.”

“Single warp engine?”

“Yup.”

“Age?”

“Older than the dirt in the bottom of your laundry bag,” Dar joked.

“Very funny…So, are you gonna swing by Erotis and show Denrika your new ship?”

“No, Gwog ordered me to Newrillis for a refit…And then after, I’ve been politely told I’m working the dark side.”

“Ah, he fears a little competition.”

Dar waved his hand at all the other ships. “It’s not like we’re the only game out there.”

“I know, I know. But the dark side does hold many good trade planets.” He collected Dar’s things. “Come, show me your new ship.”

“Certainly, my friend!”

Dar rummaged around the control console. “Okay, where are you?” he grumbled, opening drawers and cabinets. “Ah! There you are.” He took out a comm headset and looked it over. “Hope you still work.” Putting it on, he fiddled with a small switch on the side; then he poked the communications button. He still found it ironic that the ship was Satiren in origin. Dar wondered who had owned it in the beginning.

“This is Captain Dar Meltom of the Marsuian to Sirrixian port control.”

“Go ahead, Marsuian.”

“Requesting to undock and depart.”

“Stand by.” There was silence for a few moments. “Request accepted. Docking fees are paid.”

“Yes, thank you, I paid them just an hour ago.”

“Mag-locks disengaging.” A loud clanking noise could be heard from the door below as the locks released. A moment later, Dar and the Marsuian were floating free.

He switched off the comm headset and worked to bring the engine on line. “Come on, you can do it. You got fuel, I checked. Let’s make some tracks for Newrillis and I’ll get you all fixed up.” Firing the directional thrusters, Dar got the ship away from the space station. He knew what he was doing; it just felt so strange being by himself. Grabbing his reading tablet, he indexed through until he found all his coordinates listings. Spending so much time in navigation on the Cunik, Dar kept a log of where all the planets were, and how to get to them. “Okay, Newrillis, here we come.”

Punching in the numbers, he locked it in. “Warp engine on line—check, course locked—check, no one in my way—check. Let’s go!” He pushed the throttle forward and felt the ship pick up speed. It was slow, but she was going. Dar watched the stars ahead become a streaky blur. “Warp one…two…three…” And then there was a loud rumbling from the stern of the ship. “Oh, what now?” He saw the ship slowing again. “Aw, what happened?”