Karadin

[Stoat]

The night was going well so far, at least as far as Karadin was concerned. The two miners had been cleared out fairly quickly, and it was just him and the stranger left at the table. The stranger was running low on money, and high on alcohol, and his betting was becoming more and more irrational. Karadin new it was only a matter of time before all the money would be his. He was already a few thousand credits up, and several people had gathered around the table to watch.

The stranger dealt a new hand, and Karadin carefully studied his hand. It was good, and worth betting heavily on. The odds were stacked in his favour anyway. The stranger instantly matched his bets as cards were drawn and discarded. The pot quickly reached 7,000 credits, and with the stanger eagerly throwing his credits into the pot, Karadin decided to take the big gamble.

"All in!" he called, pushing all of his credits into the center of the table. The pot was now 16,000 credits, and the stranger, now well and truly drunk, was short a good 7,000 to be able to call. It was a cheap move, over betting like this, for it forced the stranger to insantly lose the game as he was unable to match the bet. The stranger looked at him, and smiled. He reached slowly into his jacket and withdrew a key of some sort which he waved at Karadin.

"Mah ship ter match yer!" he slurred, and threw the key onto the table.

Karadin turned to the audience, looking for one of the bar workers. "You okay with that?" he asked. He'd learned long ago to check with the house before accepting a drunks bet. Always best to get their okay first, then there was always backup if things turned bad. One of the heavies spoke into a communicator briefly, then nodded acceptance to Karadin.

As the stranger laid down his cards, Karadin showed his hand. A suited running peacock, the third best hand possible in the game. He smiled broadly as he surveyed the strangers cards. It was a good hand, usually good enough to win, but not this time. The stranger jerked back on his chair as he realised he'd lost. He stared up at Karadin blankly, then back at the cards as things started to sink into his addled mind. He looked back to Karadin, pure rage in his eyes, and his seat flew back as he stood. Karadin watched in disbelief as the stranger went for his gun, everything moving in slow motion. He knew he was probably dead. Dammit! Too cocky. Too cocky by far. He should have seen this one coming a mile off. He cringed away from the gun as it rose higher. But the shot never came. Something smacked hard into the table instead.

As he opened his eyes, he spotted the stranger slumped, face down on the table, slowly slipping backwards and off the table. One of the heavies of the establishment was stood behind, brandishing a large wooden bat. He looked at Karadin and said, "I reckon you'll be wanting to take your stuff and leave, mate. We'll deal with this one when he wakes up, but probably best if your not on the station when he does, ey?"

Karadin nodded quickly, raking the money and keycard into his pockets. "What about the sip? he asked quickly. "There's no way they'll let me leave in it without his say-so."

"Oh, don't worry about that, mate" grinned the heavy. "You just make sure you get to the docking bay in 4 hours, and we'll make sure you get to leave."

Karadin nodded again and left the bar, heading straight for the nearest lift. Time to make a hasty escape, before any of the folks in the bar remembered that he was carrying over 10,000 credits and the key to an as yet unknown ship. He checked his watch. 03:21. He'd need to be at the docking bays by 07:00. He knew the heavy would be there, waiting for him. They survived on their reputations, and that was their word, backed up by extreme prejudice.

Reaching the level his rooms were on he was able to relax just a bit, and the reality of his situation started to sink in..................

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