.:j:.Tyber's-Rig

[Tyber.Zann]

After several uneventful and repetative supply runs from Puerto Rico to Newcastle and back I was ready relax a bit. While some pilots think of moving cargo as a grind, I happen to like the routine of it. Where some think it's boring, I find there's always a certain quiet tension and even excitement that comes from never knowing when some ambitious pirate may decide to intercept your cargo, or some enemy decide to ambush you. I like the peaceful runs, but there's a big difference between calm and complacent, the latter can get you killed quick. I feel a sense of satisfaction at the end of a profitable day of moving goods, filling contracts, or completing a project.

The crew was taking care of all the checks and maintenance needed to keep a ship functioning well. We live by the old sayin "take care of your equipment and it'll take care of you". I know they feel as I do about the Respite; she's more than just a source of income she's our way of life, our freedom, our home. We're not just shipmates, we're family. I had complete confidence I could enjoy a break and everything would be in order when I got back to my quarters later.

Having been in space for several days I wanted a diversion from my normal routine so I headed to Beaumont. I rarely drink, but I often meet friends, or make new ones hangin out and visiting at the bar. There were a coupla junkers throwing knives at the dart board on the back wall. I laughed to myself when I noticed they'd pegged a recruiting poster for the Liberty Navy with Hale's picture over the board. A small crowd of drunk miners cheered and heckled their buddies who were locked in a heated arm wrestling match. Some Zoners, a junker, and a Rogue were playing cards at a table off to the side of the bar. I grabbed a glass of ice water and made my way over to the folks playing cards. It seemed a friendly enough game so after watchin a few hands I asked if they'd mind another player. The Rogue smiles a toothy grin and says if I have the creds he's happy to take em. I grabbed a chair from another table and sat down. I reached into one of the pouches on my belt and pulled out a handful of large credit notes. Setting the pile of money down in front of me I smiled myself as his mouth opened involuntarily and his eyes sparkled with greed, "Let's get to givin you this loot then. I'm in!".

---

The game was well underway by the time I joined them and before long my fellow junker was out of funds. I offered to front him some playing money if he wanted but he assured me he'd had enough for the night. I was losing pretty regular but so were the Zoners. Seemed my rogue friend may have been right, he may just leave tonight with a good bit of my money. It's not the kind o' thing makes me mad though. I only gamble what I'm ready and able to lose. Over the next couple hours the Zoners called it quits. They were all from the same crew and had to get back to their ship. I was enjoying the time away from my usual routine so I continued playing into the night. A pair of the miners joined us for a couple hands but they quickly tired of the game after losing a surprising amount of credits in a particularly short time. Perhaps they don't have much time to play cards shootin rocks. Anyway that left just the rogue and I again.

My impressive stack of credits had dwindled to just a few notes. I figured to go out with a bang so I threw everything I had left in on a pair of sixes. Surprisingly he folded. I had a run of four wins in a row. He pulled a full house and I figured my luck had resumed it's earlier course but I won the next several hands. I was quickly gaining back all I'd started with. Unfortunately for my new buddy, he dealt with watching his winnings pass back to me by throwing back shots in frustration. He'd been nursing his drinks all night but now he was positively drunk. It became easier and easier to read whether to fold or raise. In short order I was holding all he'd won from the table as well as almost everything he'd started with himself. It had been a fun and profitable game for me.

On what was sure to be the last hand for him I decided to play a bit. I didn't have anything but the ace of spades so I drew four and left them facedown on the table. I offered to match whatever he had and call it good. He drew three cards and kept them face down himself. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigar, lighting it he suggested matching me all or none. I laughed, clearly he only had a handful of credits on the table and I was sittin pretty with several million credits in front of me. He stares at the facedown cards and says loud enough for the others in the bar to look over, I'll put my ship in the pot against your winnings tonight, winner takes all. A crowd quickly formed around the table. I knew he'd had more than enough to impare his judgement so I tried to discourage him. He smirked at me and asked if I was yellow. Now I'm not one to get riled up just from a little trash talkin, but I was trying to be nice. I could easily have just bid him out and called it good. "I'm in" I say, looking to the crowd to ensure there were witnesses to our arrangement. He wrote the name and security code for his ship on the face of a hundred cred note and layed it in the pot.

I reach down and turn over the four cards I'd drawn revealing two pair, aces and eights. He laughs and grabs his own three cards. He just stared at them for a moment. He took a deep breath and flung his cards on the table; a pair of Kings. Standing up he turned to leave without a word. He looked back at my hand laying face up now on the table. His eyes grew wider for a moment, then he looked straight at me and said quietly 'That's the deadman's hand friend'. I eased my hand over the hilt of my blaster thinking he was getting ready to do something really stupid. Instead he just turned and left. I was pleased he'd seen reason.

I was scooping up my cash, as well as the security code for my new ship when I saw it... The Ace of spades, Ace of clubs, Eight of spades, Eight of clubs, and the Queen of hearts; the deadman's hand. Bill Hickock was holdin that hand when he was murdered. Spos'ed to be cursed, but it had won me a new ship.

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Making my way to the docking bay I looked around for my new Bloodhound, or maybe even a Werewolf if I was lucky. I'd no real use for one myself, but it can be useful at times to misdirect attention to someone else. Distinctive ships are good for that.

I couldn't find any Rogue ships at all and began to wonder if my cardplaying buddy had beat me here and was fleeing with my winnings. The ship wasn't such a big deal, but to renig on a poker bet would be something I'd have to pursue. I'd have gladly handed over the money had he won, I expect to collect what was put up. I'd had a different impression of him, seemed like a straight up guy, for an outlaw.

I made my way over to the dockmaster's office to see who the ship had been registered to for a starting point on the chase. I explained the situation and he nodded sympathetically, assuring me he'd be glad to help. He checked the registry, looked at me, and checked it again. "Problem friend?" I asked casually. He asked just what the pot had been on this hand. "A couple mil, Why?" He let out a long low whistle then came out from around the desk and motioned for me to follow. He walked to a large observation window and laughing he told me the reason I'd been unable to find her was that she's moored outside. "What the heck are you talking about?!" The only ship moored is a full blown pirate train... with rogue insignia on the bow... and the name on the side matching the paper in my hand. Slowly it began to dawn on me; dead man's curse my eye! That ship had to be worth something like a hundred million credits! I already had the name in mind; Tyber's-Run, as in what a run of good luck!

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Although I was excited to get my new ship out running goods, I know better than to roll out without first checking everything thoroughly to ensure it's fully capable. I've let myself get in a hurry before and forgot to restock on replacement batteries only to find I could really have used em halfway into an unexpected engagement. I had my crew do a good series of checks and maintenance at Vieques. Everything seemed good until we put her through some firing solutions to test the defenses. We were doing good. I was becoming pretty comfortable with her until the firing console started making an obnoxious high pitch whine. As we started to investigate why sparks shot out from underneath the control panel and smoke began billowing out.

No one was hurt, but somethin was seriously wrong with the weapon system. Pulling her back into dock we ran diagnostics and found the control box had not only shorted itself out, but had sent a surge through the entire system effectively frying every turret on the ship! Space is dangerous; I'm not some Zoner flying unarmed through the dark so I needed to replace them before getting underway. Don't know if y'all have purchased turrets lately but they're expensive! Thinking about how I could recoop the investment in no time at all I went all out and replaced them with brand new transport turrets all around. It cost a pretty penny, but with the amount of goods she could haul I'm sure to make up the loss in spades.

Actually blew the hatches while in dock and replaced the Xenobiotic filters on her but throughout the ship she still smells like burnt wires. I can get used to it, maybe I'll stop by one o' them Spa and Cruise ports and have em spray her with that vanilla stuff they use on their liners. Told the crew they might even grow to like it.. soon enough it'll smell like money!