Raven Revenge: Ariel Hope Chronicles 4

by G. P. Moss

  "Sounds about right."

  "I'm not sure if I want any of that stuff then!"

  "Moderation, my dear, like everything."

  Ariel's unexpected term of endearment brings the widest smile to his face he's ever experienced.

  Ariel departs the podium, leaving a bewildered Billy Duke passing a message along the line of thoroughly despicable and naughty gang members, their sorry heads bowed in forced contrition.

  The Duke's shaky, gravelly voice, laced with a backroom hint of mouse squeak, clatters over the heads of the expectant crowd.

  "We, erm, stand here today, in this magnificent small town that makes up this wonderful small planet, to offer, erm, our complete sorriness for our, erm, dreadfully bad behaviour towards our new friends, Captain Stevie Lo and First Officer Yvette. My colleagues and I, for we are no longer allowed to be called a gang, and rightly so, would like to express our sorrow in the only way we know how."

  Billy Duke gives a thumbs-up to a technician who promptly presses a switch.

  As Sinead O'Connor's 'Nothing Compares 2 U' blasts out from the music player, the 9 reforming characters weep uncontrollably, their manky tears bouncing off the podium like a contaminated Spring shower.

  At the end of the song, his voice shaking like a brittle leaf in the infancy of a hurricane, the Duke offers a final, public apology, for the benefit of Ariel.

  "My reforming colleagues and I, would also like to publicly apologise to Captain Ariel Hope for shooting at her in StarTapped Mountain. From this day forward, we recognise her as our Ambassador from Earth and offer her the respect she thoroughly deserves. Captain Hope and her crew of the Raven shall also be offered free beer, sausages, soft drinks, and coming as soon as we've figured it out, champagne, for the rest of their lives, which we sincerely hope will be extremely lengthy. Thank you, citizens of Bump Minor, and especially, Captain Lo and lovely First Officer Yvette, for giving us a 2nd chance; we will strive to ensure The Wary Sheep provides the best beer and sausages in the Universe!"

  The crowd look at each other in bewildered silence, before breaking out in the tiniest applause ever recorded, previously reserved for the Bump Minor amateur orchestra, who are not very good at all.

  Teary and bleary eyed, the new proprietors of The Wary Sheep, Bump Minor's 1st ever bar pub, zigzag their way to new beginnings.

  *

  Immediately following the departure of The Wary Sheep company of straggly fellows, formerly known as The Space Dogs Tricycle Gang, Ariel ponders the unusual speech, looking to Stevie Lo for clarity.

  “So, which bits were genuine?”

  “They seemed pretty shook up to me though I’m sure playing that Sinead O’Connor song was an emotional stimulus. The collective crying was a bit over the top. I won’t say Billy Duke was lying but I’ll wager a guess some of it was tongue in cheek; either that or they really are complete idiots, or prone to vicious mood swings at the drop of a hat, or in this case, a spin of a disc.”

  “Hahaha, ‘spin of a disc’; which century are you living in?”

  “Technology and me, are not often the best of friends, Ariel.”

  “Says the Captain of a Beta cruiser.”

  “Speaking of Beta cruisers, will I be flying Beta 4 again or are we all flying in the Raven?”

  “We’ll fly the Raven as the primary ship, because it’s massive, and utilise the cruisers as escorts or escape ships.”

  “We’re a bit short staffed to have the luxury of escorts!”

  Ariel sighs.

  “I know. Alex, are there any bright sparks on Bump Minor who’d like to join us? In an exploratory role, of course as we’ve no means of paying anyone for the foreseeable future, of which, of course, I cannot see anything of.”

  Sweeping an arm in a dramatic show of arm sweeping, he delivers the unwanted answer everyone was expecting.

  “No one will leave here. This is all they know, making weapons here on this little planet in the butt end of nowhere, close to warp hole wormholes hardly anyone ever ventures down due to dust clouds, rogue planets, pirate freighters and the occasional freezing ice storm.”

  “I’m surprised no one’s invaded you yet.”

  “Ariel, you know, we have expertise here and a reputation for fairness, even among the dodgiest of space travellers.”

  He taps his head.

  “And most of our knowledge is up here, for sure.”

  Ariel poses the question she’s been dreading to ask since they arrived back on Bump Minor and realised they weren’t going to be killed.

  “So, now you are home at last; I presume you will be staying here?”

  “Well, for sure I would ask you to stay but I know you have your family to find, and now you know where they are, I’d imagine you’ll be heading off pretty sharpish.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, question-dodging boy, you.”

  “Well, you know for sure, now that my toe rag cousin is locked up, there’s a spare seat going on the Council and I have a feeling my uncle will ask me to join; he’s mentioned it before, when Percy’s stepped out of line.”

  Ariel purses her lips.

  “Alex!”

  He grins.

  She waits.

  “I think it would be rude of me to let you go all the way to planet Whistler on your own so, until you’re reunited with your family, you’re stuck with me, for sure you are!”

  “Oh my, I am so happy!”

  She calms herself, straightening her tunic.

  “In a professional context. Of course.”

  “Of course. I have a stipulation though. No offense intended, for sure, but the Raven already has a crew and me not being part of your mini military, well it will be good to have an Explorer by your side; there’ll be enough ships already hanging onto your docking ports.”

  Ariel holds out her hand.

  “It’s a deal.”

  Alex takes her hand in his.

  “For sure, a deal it is.”

  Ariel feels a mild electric current pass through her, but not enough to power a strip light.

  For a deal-making handshake, it lingers longer than most. Perhaps handshakes take longer to conclude on Bump Minor?”

  *

  Reginald strides over to speak to the Raven’s new crew before they grab a bite to eat.

  He looks directly at Alex.

  “Normally, as elder of the elder Council, your uncle would be deciding the fate of a prisoner, but of course, it is his own son who is the transgressor.”

  Before Alex has a chance to speak, Ariel feels some reality needs injecting into the situation.

  “I think ‘transgressor’ is masking the hideousness of what Percy was trying to do. Reginald, without trying to sound dramatic, it was attempted murder, and if we get technical here, I would say the actual murder of the ex-Whistler fighter pilots, Damien and Pedro!”

  “Those deaths, unfortunate though they are, cannot be blamed directly on Percy, but, I do get your point. It is serious, I know. In my opinion, there are only 2 options; life imprisonment or exile in a ship without offensive weapons systems. I know that Ronald would struggle to see his son caged on a daily basis but I will take your wishes into consideration.”

  “I will leave it to Alex; he has an emotional investment in this.”

  “Out of the respect and love for my uncle, I shall recommend exile. I have reservations about this, for sure but, well, I will not put Ronald through any further anguish than he already has to suffer.”

  “Thank you, Alex, you are a fine man and I hope one day you will join us on the Council. By the way, Percy will be given an old Explorer; Ronald has authorised that the pale blue Explorer Deluxe be given to you.”

  “He can have the one he half owns already; minus the offensive weapons systems, of course.”

  Reginald visibly relaxes, the tension falling from his shoulders like a puny man arriving home, dropping his gym bag after a particularly gruesome circuits session.

  He holds out his ha
nd.

  “We have a deal.”

  Alex grabs it, gripping as tight as a jam jar lid, for only a second before letting go.

  “For sure, we do.”

  Now that’s a normal Bump Minor handshake.

  Just saying.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Planet Whistler (Still in the wrong place)

  Gobby Johnny Hope’s frustration with his previously beloved The Book of Space, grows until he can bear it no longer.

  Why do the new pages keep displaying pictures of bananas? Some are straight and green, others are bent and yellow, and some are in between.

  And that’s not all.

  Occasionally, the pages become animated for just a couple of seconds, showing a planet whipped around, spinning in a crazy orbit, as giant spaceships looking like massive shipping containers dart through a galaxy, their engines burning with blinding bright green power.

  And all the time bananas. Try as he may, Johnny cannot fathom any of it, except it must be something hugely important to show up in the book. As for the image of his sister, Ariel, it still appears but in the background, as if she’s there but out of reach. Still, it’s a good sign, meaning it’s likely she is still alive.

  He needs to share this with someone, but who? The book says not to trust Lenny, his father, Admiral Hope, is always too busy and has basically said not to bother him, and the puppet leader in charge of Whistler, Maurice Mickleby, is not as helpful as he makes out to be.

  That leaves only 1 person to trust.

  Someone who is wise and sagey, a philosopher like himself.

  Johnny decides it is time to share more with Mr Senior.

  *

  Underground in the Sparkling Minerals Mine, Mr Whistler Senior finishes filling another box with stolen Minerals, an integral part of his quality control scam.

  He looks up in surprise as a breathless Johnny enters his office.

  “Ah, young Gob...er, Johnny; what can I do you for?”

  “It’s the other way around.”

  Mr Senior inspects his treasure-laden box.

  “What is?”

  “It is ‘what can I do for you, not ‘what can I do you for’.”

  “Is it? Well I never! You learn something new every day, even an old wise sage like me hahaha!”

  “Happy to help, sir.”

  “Now, now, we have been friends for ages now; no need for the ‘sir’. ‘Wise old sage’ will do, yes, that will do very nicely indeed!”

  “Wise old sage, you already know I am in possession of a most magical book, do you not?”

  “I am aware there may be something like that, yes.”

  “Something very strange has been happening lately, within the new pages.”

  “Ah, so it is that type of magical book, yes, um, I see.”

  “Well anyway, pictures of bananas keep appearing, in different colours and stages of bendiness, along with giant, container-like spaceships, a spinning planet and, dare I say it, occasional sounds of harsh laughter?”

  Mr Senior clasps his hands under his bony chin, his white hair visibly thinning as his brain absorbs this startling new information.

  He has not been able to contact his younger brother, Mr Whistler, for a while now but that could mean his dastardly exploits have taken him out of range, that is all. He will need to know about this though.

  Planet Whistler could be in grave danger.

  “Did you manage to assemble weapons for the Spacies?”

  “Well, I thought I had but I was duped by Maurice Mickleby and then my father so now I am in the process of collecting them illegally, via the dark market.”

  “Ah, so you know of such things, huh? Impressive, yes, I am impressed with your cunning. Seeing as you are as dodgy as an old carrot kebab, I will translate your pages for you!”

  Johnny hesitates.

  This is going too far.

  “Well, no, I cannot share The Book of Space with anyone!”

  The title slipped out without warning from his unguarded gobby gob.

  “Ah, so you have the famous volume written and constantly updated, by none other than the famous Horace Strange!”

  “You know of this book?”

  “It was rumoured to have fallen into the hands of Earthlings, yes. Do not worry, from the information you gave me, I can tell you at least something.”

  The thinly white-haired old man’s eyes glint with the promise of the ultimate booty, The Book of Space. It will require guile and complete dodginess but for now, he must dangle a carrot.

  “The book shows an incident which could be old or could be in the future. The planet is being whipped back to its natural orbit, hopefully when its residents are asleep. The giant spaceships sound like the pirate ships of Mu, their fearsome occupants scouring the galaxy for slaves to sell to the highest bidder, or even to fulfil their popular order books.”

  Johnny looks frightened.

  “That’s all scary enough but what about the bananas?”

  Mr Whistler Senior stares up from his chair, rheumy eyes glistening with fearful moisture.

  “Let us just hope this incident happened long ago, out of the reach even of my long memory.”

  “With respect, wise old sage, you did not answer my question.”

  “The only connection I can think of, between the pirates of Mu and bananas is Broad Claude of the planet Banan, a vicious ex-pirate himself who now owns a multitude of large factories, his success only made possible by the intense growing conditions enabled by the hot winds of Saha.”

  “But what does he do that requires the questionable friendship of dastardly space pirates?”

  “Apparently, the soil on Banan was corrupted by negative energy, causing the planet’s famous bananas to only grow green and straight. He needs many slaves to work in order to provide the lush fruit the many surrounding galaxies have come to expect, and therefore make him rich.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Broad Claude is the proud owner of the Banana Bending Factories of Banan!”

  “So, the space pirates are coming here?”

  “Relax, young man. The intermittent ice storms we keep experiencing lately will keep any aggressive grabbers at bay. The roughest, toughest, and most dastardly of them all, Slick Stick Silas, leader of the pirates of Mu, hates the cold as much as Broad Claude; anything less than hot entering Banan will cause everything to wither so we are safe, at least until the cleansing ice storms leave us for good.”

  A massive sigh of unrelieved fear escapes Johnny’s mouth.

  “All right, wise old sage. Now, more than ever, it will be my duty to arm the Spacies, using any means necessary!”

  “Good lad!”

  Yes, he thinks, arm them so they can turn their weapons on the scummy Earthling invaders once his brother returns!

  The bananas of Banan will grow bent before that happens.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Planet Bump Minor

  As Ariel and her mini military Raven crew prepare the ships for the next leg of their voyage, the temperature drops like a fake wrestler.

  “Alex, look!”

  From every direction, freezing ice sheets and balls thunder their way towards the planet’s surface, instantly turning everything white.

  “Ariel, for sure this is much worse than the ice storm that followed us near the freighter lanes; there’s no way we should be flying through it.”

  “Thinking of your paintwork again?”

  “Don’t even think about it, Ariel, I’m serious, for sure I am. This ice will freeze up the engine ports so bad even the Magitechs will struggle to clear it. No, we’ll wait until it passes.”

  Ariel sighs.

  “I know, you’re right; I just want to see my family, now I know where they are.”

  “Well, they’ll still be there, for sure if they’ve taken over planet Whistler; that old tyrant won’t be trying to grab his land back, that’s for sure.”

  “You sure?”

  “Are y
ou making fun of me?”

  “No, you just say ‘for sure’ a lot. It’s quite charming, actually.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, I’m positively sure; sorry I brought it up.”

  Alex gives her a wide smile.

  While his mouth is open, she quickly checks to see if his teeth are similar in structure to humans and not hiding mini snakes or anything equally hideous.

  No, completely normal.

  *

  Ronald’s calm voice clatters through the Raven’s control centre.

  “I gather you are not flying in this weather, Ariel?”

  “No, we’ll wait until it’s passed.”

  “You may as well all join us over here once your ships are ready; this tumultuous tempest may be staying a while. Reports are that it’s the other end of a cleansing ice storm, originating near the gas clouds of the Milky Way, close to planet Whistler and now it’s found its way through the same warp hole wormhole Mr Whistler came tumbling down.”

  “So, it would have hit planet Whistler?”

  “Undoubtedly, although there has been word of a temporary planet shift, away from its natural orbit; funny old thing, this Universe.”

  “Ronald, my family are on that planet, along with the rest of StarTapped Beta Command; planet shifts and violent ice storms don’t fill me with confidence that they’ll be thriving.”

  “I shouldn’t worry, Ariel; these are natural occurrences. I grant you they do not happen very often, once in every few hundred years or so but I never heard of races being wiped out.”

  “Great; they don’t need to be wiped out to be in trouble.”

  “I know it is difficult to have to wait but let the storm pass and then you can go safely; I am sure everything will be fine. You could do with some rest, all of you. Look at what has happened recently, Ariel.”