Stranded: (Space Outlaw 2)

  Stranded

  (Space Outlaw 2)

  Dominique Mondesir

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Epilogue

  63. Revenge (Space Outlaw 3)

  Author Note

  Also by Dominique Mondesir

  Copyright © 2017 by Dominique Mondesir

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover art by streetlightgraphics

  Edited by Andrea Harding

  Created with Vellum

  1

  The lights on the bridge had gone out. Sirens wailed and screeched. Red flashing lights highlighted dangers on multiple levels. The eerie red glow they cast over Saoirse's face didn't inspire much hope in Phoenix.

  "What have we got?" Phoenix shouted over the sirens.

  Saoirse's reply was inaudible.

  "What?"

  "It doesn't look good! The engine readings are off the charts. Shields are down--" The words were snatched out of Saoirse's mouth as the ship launched everyone off their feet. Saoirse wiped blood from her forehead before dragging herself back to the ship's controls. "Because of the lack of power, we don't have any shields to protect us from this asteroid field. If we don't land soon we will be ripped apart!"

  "I'm too young to die," Plowstow cried.

  "Can we make it to the planet?" Phoenix asked.

  "Make it, yes. Land safely, no," said Saoirse.

  "Fucking wonderful. Just fucking wonderful! I have been on a total of three spaceship rides, and two of them have crash-landed." Phoenix stabbed a button next to the wall beside him, turning on the ship's coms. "L, how's engineering looking?"

  Phoenix could feel a ball of tension growing in his stomach as he received nothing but static on the other end of the line.

  "L--"

  "I heard you the first time!" L's voice crackled through the system.

  "Well..."

  "How do you think it's going? I'm ankle deep in oil and ship coolant. I don't know how this heap of junk is staying aloft."

  "Well, that's reassuring," said Phoenix.

  "We're nearing the planet's atmosphere. How much time can she give us?" Saoirse asked.

  "L, Saoirse wants to know how much time--" Another unseen object slammed against the ship, and Phoenix grabbed the wall to steady himself. "L! Saoirse wants to know how much time we have!"

  Static answered Phoenix's question. He looked over to Saoirse, whose face had paled.

  "L!"

  "Phoenix...we...are..." The words came scattered through the static, like a flock of pigeons trying to take flight.

  "We are what, L?"

  "We're going down," she said.

  The force of the ship entering the atmosphere threatened to tear off the ship's outer hull, as well as Phoenix's own skin. "I can't believe this shit is happening again!" said Phoenix.

  "At least you have a seat this time," said Saoirse.

  "Funny." Phoenix gripped the armrest of his chair, his fingers digging into the material.

  Knuckles turned white. Heads pressed flat against seats.

  The ship bucked like a bull at a rodeo, wanting to veer off course. It jerked right to left, left to right, unsure what direction it wanted to head in, trying to find a way out of its misery.

  Phoenix gritted his teeth as he felt the force of the Gs pull against his skin. His stomach lurched, threatening to spill its contents from both ends. Smoke billowed from one of the main consoles, and Phoenix brought his foot up to stomp out the small fire.

  "Whose idea was it to come here, anyway?" Plowstow asked.

  "Saoirse, can you make the landing?" Phoenix asked, ignoring Plowstow.

  "I can--" Saoirse jerked the flight controls and the ship made a hard left. Sweat and blood coated her brow. She stared at the viewing panel in front of her. Jaw set firm, she appeared to be having a battle with the ship itself–willing it to stay on course, keeping it there with nothing but sheer willpower and stubbornness. "I can try," she finally replied.

  "We ain't gonna make--"

  "Plowstow! Shut up!"

  Phoenix leaned forward in his chair, pressing the button that enabled him to communicate with the whole ship.

  "Everyone listen up! This is your captain speaking."

  Saoirse raised one eyebrow as she gave Phoenix a sideways look.

  "I always wanted to say that. Anyway... We are going to be landing shortly, on this beautiful home planet of L's. I want everyone to brace themselves. Make sure all objects are safely secured and tucked away. On behalf of me and my crew, I would like--"

  "Phoenix!" Saoirse and Plowstow both yelled.

  Phoenix looked toward the viewing screen and his breath was snatched from his lungs. There was nothing but brown as far as the eye could see. It was everywhere–rolling hills and mountains of the stuff.

  No other feature dominated the planet so much. There was no green. There was no blue. There was nothing in between. It was just brown.

  Phoenix realised something almost too late. The brown mass was getting larger and larger by the second. It was coming at them fast. Too fast.

  "Saoirse!"

  "Working on it."

  As Saoirse pulled and jerked the controls to and fro, anyone with half an eye could see it was a losing battle. There was nothing she could do.

  The ship's nose pointed downwards, and everyone grabbed hold of whatever they could, beginning to lift from their seats. The descent was too fast, too uncontrollable.

  As flames danced along the metal nose the ship twisted and turned, speeding towards the scenery below.

  Phoenix could see it coming, and there wasn't a thing in the world that he could do. "Brown. Shit!"

  2

  The ship hit the sand like a stone skimmed across a lake. It skipped and bounced, leaving bits of metal and debris in its wake. Finally coming to a stop, it rested peacefully agains
t the brown sand, dead and silent.

  Phoenix opened his eyes to survey the scene around him. Chaos. Metal paneling hung from the ceiling of the ship. Exposed wires still sparked and flared as the last remaining current escaped from their clutches.

  "Is everyone--" Phoenix wiped the sweat that coated his face, swallowed the lump that was in his throat and tried again. "Shit. Is everyone okay?"

  "Are we alive?" said Plowstow.

  "Seem to be, Plowstow. I would hate to think that I died and you came into the afterlife with me."

  Plowstow checked himself over religiously, tutting at a cut here and a mark there. He shook his head sadly as his gaze landed on a tear in a jacket that he had found on the ship, and he uttered a soulful groan. "Will you look at this! Just found this, I have. Argh! It's ruined now."

  "Saoirse, all good?" asked Phoenix.

  Saoirse unclipped herself from her chair and got up. "I'm going to check on L," she said, leaving the bridge without a backwards glance.

  "I take it we landed?" Freyan popped his head through the door.

  "Yes, Doc. It happens we have. I would ask how the landing treated you, but you appear to be fine."

  "Well, you know how strong and durable the Bloodless are, my good fellow. It would take more than a mere crash to injure me."

  "So it wasn't your cries of terror I heard earlier?" said Plowstow.

  "Phoenix, will I be needed for anything before we depart?" Freyan asked, ignoring the question.

  "No. Just make sure you have all the medical supplies that you need and anything else that could be useful to you. I doubt we will be coming back to this ship."

  Freyan gave him a nod before slipping back into the bowels of the ship.

  Phoenix unstrapped himself and cast a look around the bridge. There was nothing worth saving. Everything was either burnt or simply didn't work anymore.

  "Plowstow, get your shit and meet me outside."

  Phoenix collected the few items he had brought with him from home and made his way toward the back of the ship, where the ramp was located. Or where it should have been located. The whole section of the back of the ship was now missing.

  Phoenix walked towards it open-mouthed. How they had managed to land this ship, in the state that it was in, was beyond him. But then again, with Saoirse at the helm, maybe it wasn't just a lucky break after all.

  He walked through the newly formed doorway and was met by a blast of heat and humidity that stole his breath. He felt as though he had just walked into a sauna. Heat prickled his skin and the glare of the sun overhead forced him to squint.

  Ahead of him, he could see the trail of parts the ship had tossed like clothes from two lovers on a one-night stand.

  Phoenix turned his head left and then right. Both directions offered him the same view: an endless sea of brown sand. Nothing stirred around him, and the silence was peaceful, haunting and deadly all in one.

  Freyan and Plowstow took up the spaces on either side of him, and Phoenix still remained silent. He closed his eyes, and a slow smile crept across his face. This was the first planet he had set foot on other than Earth. Digging his feet further into the sand, he allowed it to cover his shoes. He, Phoenix Jones, was now a space explorer. Bending down, he picked up the scorching hot sand in his hands. He threw one handful in the air and poured the other inside a little clear bottle.

  His smile turned into a chuckle and grew into a belly laugh; Phoenix did a dance on the spot. He was on another planet! The troublemaker at school, voted most likely to end up in prison before he turned thirty... Well, he had been in prison, but he had been older than thirty–and technically it wasn't a prison on Earth–so that didn't count.

  Running footsteps bounded behind him, and he felt the weight of someone leaping on his back. Arms wrapped around his throat and legs wrapped themselves round his stomach, and he steadied himself so he didn't topple over.

  "Welcome to my home!" L said from Phoenix's back.

  3

  "What is this?" said Holger.

  "I...I...I don't know what you mean, my lord," stuttered one of Holger's servants.

  Holger's cheeks flushed red as he brushed a hand forcefully through his hair. "The question was a simple one. I fail to see how you do not understand. I didn't know I asked you such a complex question. Let us try again, shall we? What is this in front of me?"

  "It's... It's...what you requested. The meal from the planet known as Earth. I believe it's called ice-cream. I--"

  "Good. Good. We are getting somewhere. But this isn't what I--"

  "My lord, I assure--"

  The slap that Holger delivered to the female servant's face appeared weak but it still left a mark. "Do not interrupt me again."

  The servant lowered her head and tried to keep her tears in check. The room was occupied by other members of Holger's staff, but they busied themselves, heads down, trying to avoid their master's wrath.

  "I know this is ice-cream, but what flavour?"

  The female servant looked up at Holger with wide tear-rimmed eyes. Her bottom lip trembled as she muttered something inaudible.

  "I didn't quite catch that," Holger said, cupping his hand around his ear.

  "I believe the humans call it vanilla."

  "Ah, vanilla. That explains it, then. So this isn't chocolate?"

  "I--"

  "Of course it's not, because chocolate is a different colour!" Holger grabbed the bowl from in front of him and pushed the contents of the bowl in the servant's face. Twisting his hand back and forth, he made sure the contents covered her face.

  "Maybe that should help you to tell the difference between the two, now that it is a bit closer to your face! Now, serve me what I asked for."

  The servant stood still, too scared to move. Her gaze swept around the room and she trembled as she looked for anyone to help her, but no help came. Tears started to clean a path down her cheeks. She started to speak but it came out in a jumbled mess.

  "Speak clearly," said Holger.

  "We... We...don't have any chocolate, my lord."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The food stocks... There must have been some misunderstanding. There must have--"

  "How is that person related to you?" Holger asked, pointing to an elderly servant in the distance.

  "That is my mother."

  "Good." Holger took out a plasma gun and shot the elderly servant in the foot. The scream that escaped her mouth froze everyone's actions.

  Writhing on the floor in agony, the mother clawed at her foot as a bear would if it were caught in a trap.

  The servant in front of Holger began to move but was stopped in her tracks as Holger fired near her feet.

  "Where do you think you're going?"

  "My lord. I... My mother--"

  "Is of no concern to me. Now, what are you going to do about my meal?"

  The servant shook in front of Holger. Her gaze swept to her mother, bleeding on the floor, and moved back to Holger. "I will find you what you asked for, my lord."

  Alerted by a beeping, Holger glanced down at his waist, where a light blinked on and off. A frown descended over his features and he tutted loudly before addressing the room.

  "Everyone out! You," he said, pointing to the servant in front of him, "get me the correct meal before the hour is up or there shall be dire consequences. And someone get that weeping bloody mess out of my sight." Holger waved his hand dismissively at the servant on the floor.

  Holger rushed towards a military jacket such as his men wore, as an incoming call beeped on his wrist. It was tighter than he would have liked when he slipped it on. He tried to button it up but failed to do so. Leaving it open, he made his way towards his chair.

  At a press of a button, an image appeared in front of him.

  "Ah, Rustem, how good it is to see you."

  A face that could pass for any human male's appeared on a hologram in front of Holger. It was impossible to guess his age because of his dark features. Braided hai
r descended down his shoulders with golden bells attached to the ends.

  "Holger."

  Holger's face twitched slightly as he applied a greasy smile to his face. "Only my friends call me Holger. People who work for me call me 'my lord,' or 'sir.'"

  "I tend to kill the people I work for," said Rustem.

  "Are you threatening me? Do you know who my--"

  "I am well aware whose loins you come from, Holger. As you are well aware of who I am. Let us begin this relationship on equal footing. As friends who share knowledge and wealth. Wouldn't that be better for us all?"

  "Better?"

  "Yes, better," said Rustem. "I was thinking nice words would be better than threats. Working towards a shared goal is always better than against each other. So let us work together, Holger."

  Holger cleared his throat and brushed the jacket's sleeve with the back of his hand. "Well, Rustem, my friend, what have you found out?"

  "Oh, a great many things. For instance, did you know that humans blink their eyes so many times in a day that it equates to having their eyes closed for thirty minutes? For a period of the day they are walking around blind. Unconscious of the world around them. How strange is that?" said Rustem.

  "I mean did you find anything about Phoenix!"

  "Oh, that. Why didn't you say so? Well, I have been informed that he is now in charge of a crew. It seems the Earth man acquired some friends while he was in Dredar. I have spies located on each of his crew's home-worlds, and if they land there, I will be informed."

  "Good. Good. Listen, nobody can know about this. It can't be traced back to me, you hear? Father is already not taking my calls. Can you believe that I'm his one and only remaining son, and he refuses to have anything to do with me? He's always been the same, ever since I can remember. Just because of what happened on Dredar and Earth... It was hardly my fault, was it? I would have thought what happened to... I mean--"

  "What did happen? I have heard rumours about it, but no one seems to want to tell me the full story. Like a virgin on the first night she is bedded, everyone skirts round the dirty naked truth," said Rustem.