Stranded: (Space Outlaw 2)

Home > Other > Stranded: (Space Outlaw 2) > Page 3
Stranded: (Space Outlaw 2) Page 3

by Dominique Mondesir


  Food carts offered certain delicacies you wouldn't find out in the open. They offered to cure the user of certain tastes that were frowned upon in public. Drug-roasted nuts sizzled over an open flame, their aroma wafting on the breeze. The smell tickled Plowstow's nose, causing him to sneeze.

  Scantily clad females waved at passersby, seemingly unaffected by the cold breeze. Plowstow gave them a longing gaze before quickly moving on. There would be time enough for that later.

  He took twisting backstreet after twisting backstreet, going deeper and deeper into the city's underbelly. The further he went, the thinner the herd became, until there was nothing but the creatures that crawled from one picked-clean bone to the next. Plowstow cast his gaze from one end of the alley to the other, happy that no one was around.

  He pulled back his wrist and dialled a code into his holocom.

  He waited for the signal to be picked up at the other end. The beeping of his call tried to get through, and the shadows seemed to jump from one wall to the next. A sound behind him made him spin around. A body seemingly made up of rags stared at him intently. It didn't say anything, it just stared.

  "Leave," said Plowstow.

  But still the body remained.

  Plowstow shook his head and pulled out the small sidearm strapped to his hip. He fired two shots into the body of rags, dropping it where it stood.

  "What was that noise?" said a projection emitting from his wrist.

  "I just had to stun someone. Nothing to worry about," said Plowstow.

  "Oh. Nothing that will lead back to me, I hope?"

  "It was a nobody. Now, are we still in business?" said Plowstow.

  "It all depends, really--"

  "Depends on what? This was a done deal, you hear? A spit and handshake sort of thing. Do you know what I had to go through to get this? I could go to any other bidder with this knowledge and they would pay double what I'm asking. This ain't some game," said Plowstow.

  "Easy, easy, honey. If you had let me finish, I was simply going to ask if you had the item in question," said the hologram.

  "If I didn't have it, I wouldn't be calling you, would I?"

  "I guess not."

  "Now, are we in business or not?" said Plowstow.

  "We are, we are. But the price you are asking seems a bit steep. I was thinking about twenty-five percent less than your asking price. Times are tough--"

  "No deal."

  "Come now, darling. Who could you get to pay what you are asking? Be reasonable."

  "The price stands."

  "Well, I hope you find a good enough buyer who can afford your rate, plus give you peace of mind that the transaction will not be traced back to you. Because even if whispers of this get out..." The hologram tutted. "You will be forever watching your back. Can you trust another buyer not to utter your name under duress?"

  "I don't--"

  "Seeing how you have been so loyal to those you class your friends."

  "Ten percent less than the asking price," said Plowstow.

  "Hmm, ten percent. Ten percent... Cost of fuel, plus the inconvenience of me coming to you... How about twenty?"

  "Fifteen."

  "Done. Send me the location of where to meet you and this deal shall be done," said the hologram.

  "I'm sending the location now. How long will you be? I hate waiting for credits that are owed to me."

  "I'm getting the information now. Let me see... Oh, you're closer to me than I thought. I shall be with you in a few days."

  "I didn't think you got the message I sent. Time and space on the ship was...tight. I tried my best to make it clear," said Plowstow.

  "It came through fine, darling. I was surprised when I heard from you, so I knew whatever you had must be good. Anyway, honey, I would love to catch up on old times but I gotta go. Don't miss me too much."

  "Just bring me my credits," Plowstow said, signing off.

  Plowstow walked past the still unconscious body on the floor and barely gave it a glance, scratching at his collar. He knew the credits were good but doubts still plagued him. Was it worth it? Was it worth risking what he had just found? What had he actually found? Friends he always had enough of, but credits...now credits he could always use more of.

  "Fancy someone to take care of your worries?" said a smiling female in a doorway.

  "You know what, I don't mind if you do," said Plowstow, walking her way.

  8

  Dusty's Inn was everything Phoenix imagined and more. Drunks lay on tables in what appeared to be their own vomit, the smell emitting from them mixing with the aroma of the room. The light from the ceiling overheard tried in vain to permeate the smoky den but failed miserably. The air felt thick. Alive. Phoenix waved a hand through it, clearing the space in front of him, but the smoke reclaimed its space like a jealous lover.

  "Let's sit somewhere out of the way," L said, raising her voice so she could be heard.

  The crew followed her lead and found a space at the back, positioned in a little alcove that offered them some privacy.

  "Everyone make yourselves comfortable, I'll be back with some drinks," L said, making her way towards the bar.

  Phoenix scanned the faces around them and noticed that a fair few had taken an interest in the newcomers. They stared openly in their direction, so Phoenix stared openly back.

  "Well, this seems like a...reputable establishment," said Freyan from under a hooded cloak.

  "What's with the cloak and dagger stuff?" Phoenix said, nodding Freyan's way.

  "You saw how my kind were treated on the prison ship. Well, that same resentment isn't only isolated there. Ignorance relating to--" Pausing to allow a stranger to walk by, Freyan continued, "–my race, is widespread and very much alive. I had hoped that it would have disappeared, but coming to a planet like this, which isn't...as advanced as others, could lead to problems."

  "Hmm, I didn't realise. Couldn't you simply alter your appearance?"

  "I could but such practices are frowned upon. If caught, it would mean more trouble for us than my simply appearing as I am."

  "Freyan is correct," said Saoirse. "It would be best to keep his appearance hidden while we are stationed here. This planet isn't known for its law-abiding ways. They don't have any representatives working under the Council, which means the Council's laws don't apply here."

  "And what laws would those be?" asked Phoenix.

  "The Council, although corrupt in so many ways, need the planets under their banner to cooperate. Law-abiding citizens are tax-paying citizens. Law-abiding citizens are easier to handle, easier to instruct, easier to--"

  "Control," said Phoenix, cutting Freyan off.

  "Like dumb animals," Saoirse spat.

  "Yes, in so many sad ways," said Freyan. "The Council's hand is felt heavily by any person wishing to break the laws on the planets that they control. Their justice is harsh and never fair."

  "Let me guess, the Council comes down on anyone that tries to better their place in life?"

  "Not always, Phoenix. The one thing above all else the Council wants, needs and respects, is credit. No matter how you got it, if you are willing to spend it their way, you shall always be in their favour. But those credits hardly see their way to the poor," said Freyan.

  "Rich people like to stay rich, I guess, and poor people looking for a slice of that pie doesn't sit well with them," said Phoenix.

  "Which is a stupid argument to even entertain. There are enough resources around us for everyone to live comfortably," said Freyan.

  "I couldn't agree with you more, Doc. But sometimes you have to take what you want by force. Sometimes life doesn't give you what you want on a platter. Sometimes life only rewards the harshest and the cruelest."

  "That's a terrible way to live, Phoenix."

  "That's the only way some people can live."

  A noise from the bar drew all their attention towards it. A voice that they all knew too well floated on the soup-like air.

  "Look, I
told you I would pay for your drink!"

  The response was swallowed up among the rafters.

  "I don't care!"

  Saoirse started to rise from her seat, but Phoenix placed a hand over her arm. She looked down at it, then back up at Phoenix with a raised eyebrow.

  "You and Freyan make your way towards the front door. I won't be long."

  Phoenix made a move towards the bar without waiting for a response. Saoirse could sometimes be heavy-handed where L was concerned, and right now, a heavy-handed approach was something they didn't need. Pushing past bodies, and stepping on toes so the crowded parted, Phoenix finally spotted L.

  She was surrounded by three large muscle-bound males. The leader of the group had a large red Mohawk and a tattoo of what appeared to be a large worm on the side of his head.

  "I told you that buying a drink is the only thing you'll get out of me. Nothing else!" said L.

  The greasy smile on Mohawk's face showed that he didn't get the hint. "Come on, I ain't asking for much. Just a kiss. Just a touch. Just something to make us both feel right."

  Laughter erupted from the other two and the circle grew tighter around L.

  "Well, you can forget your drink then, if you're going to act like that," said L.

  "Aw, I can't be having that, now, can I, boys? No drink. No touchy-touchy. Plus you did spill my drink. What am I meant to drink now?"

  "You had your chance, and now it's gone," L said, blowing out her cheeks.

  L tried to leave but was grabbed as she made her way past. Mohawk spun her around and began to dry hump her, while his hands tried to move under her shirt. The laughter from the other two drowned out L's protests.

  Phoenix placed his hand on Mohawk's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "Why don't you let my friend, here, go? Let me pay you back your drink, and we can all continue to have a nice time," Phoenix said with a smile.

  "Get lost," Mohawk said, trying to shake off Phoenix's grip.

  Phoenix's hand didn't move, and he squeezed a little harder. "Listen," said Mohawk, hair turning fiery red as he turned to face Phoenix. "I don't think you know who I am. Or what group I belong to. But seeing as you're new here, I'll tell you. We run this town. So I suggest that you take your fucking hand off me before I remove it."

  "Anyone who says 'Don't you know who I am' isn't really someone worth knowing," said Phoenix.

  "You what!"

  "Turn around and walk back to your table," said Phoenix.

  "I think you must be stupid. Stupid or--"

  The plasma blast that blew Mohawk's leg clean off didn't silence the room. The scream that followed it had that honour.

  "Now I want you to crawl back," said Phoenix.

  Mohawk rolled along the floor holding the stump that used to be a leg. Blood gushed forth from it and his screams turned into whimpers.

  "You think you can get away with this?" said one of Mohawk's friends, making his way towards Phoenix.

  He didn't get far, as Phoenix shot him in the leg too. Mohawk's friend fell to the floor next to him, his screams of pain playing as a backing track to his leader's agony.

  "You don't know what you--" Mohawk started but stopped when Phoenix placed the barrel of his plasma gun in his mouth.

  "I. Don't. Care. L, let's go."

  As they both made their way towards the exit, Saoirse held the door open for them.

  And I thought that Saoirse was going to be too heavy-handed.

  Out in the open, they saw a familiar face approach them.

  "We're off to Rusty's, Plowstow," L said, leading the way.

  "What! How come?"

  "The clientele at Dusty's just couldn't keep their hands off the goodies," L said with a laugh.

  9

  The crew gathered around a table and silently sipped drinks. Rusty's was a lot quieter than Dusty's, but that wasn't really saying much in a city like this.

  The level of clientele had graduated from sewage scum to pond scum. Phoenix looked around and noticed that everyone's eyes were either on their own drinks or half closed. Life seemed to have beaten any anger or hatred out of these poor souls. Now they just wanted to merely exist.

  "So... Mighty fine weather we're having, this time of year," said L cheerfully. "Mighty fine indeed."

  Phoenix took another sip of his drink and allowed it to warm his stomach. Whatever it was seemed to do the trick of relaxing his nerves. Maybe a little too much, he thought, pushing the mug away.

  "Don't worry, Phoenix, you can relax. Drink up. Rusty's has always been quieter and more mellow than Dusty's," said L, pushing Phoenix's drink back towards him.

  "What's with all the stupid names, anyway?" Phoenix asked.

  "People around here lack imagination. I'm surprised my race even made it off this dustball. Everyone around here is scared of any big ideas. Scared of life. Boring. What's life without a little fun?" L said, her hair turning the colour of a sunset over crystal blue water.

  "Sometimes people--"

  "Are we not going to talk about the big picture here? Or are we just going to chit-chat all day?" Plowstow said, cutting Freyan off.

  "What big picture would that be, Plowstow?" said Phoenix.

  "Oh, I don't know. Let me think. We're stranded on this dustball of a planet without any way to get off. Without any credits to our name. With little or no supplies to keep us alive much longer."

  "I'm well aware of that," said Phoenix.

  "So what do you plan to do about it? I ain't staying on this planet a moment longer than I have to, you hear?"

  "What am I going to do about it? I'll tell you what I am going to do--"

  "I have a plan," said L.

  As all sets of eyes turned towards her, L allowed a small smile to play across her face. She downed her drink in one and slammed her mug down on the table.

  "I can get us a ship. I may be able to get us some credits."

  "The act of getting these items wouldn't be illegal, would it?" said Freyan.

  "No. The ship is rightfully mine, and the credits would be back-payment for a job that I did but was never paid for."

  "So, this ship... Where is it?" Phoenix asked.

  "Ah, that's the thing. It's being looked after by someone, at the moment."

  "And that someone would be..." said Phoenix.

  "He's called Duke. He runs a gang called the--"

  "Worm Enforcers," said Plowstow.

  "Another friend of yours, no doubt. Why am I not surprised?" said Freyan with a snort.

  "The Worm Enforcers? What kind of shit name is that? Your planet really haven't got the whole naming thing down, have they?" said Phoenix.

  "The Worm Enforcers are not to be messed with. They are vicious, backstabbing murderers, who would slit their own deliverer's throat just to make a credit," said Plowstow.

  "I can see how you and they have a lot in common," said Freyan.

  "Look! I may be a lot of things, but I love my old deliverer like she was the last thing in this galaxy. I would do anything for her. You hear me?"

  "So what do we know about Duke?" Phoenix asked.

  L and Plowstow looked at each other before either spoke.

  "Well, he's..." Plowstow started.

  "He can be..." L trailed off.

  "He's nasty, spiteful, double-crossing, prideful," said Plowstow.

  "He came through the ranks of the Worm Enforcers by violence," said L. "He kills without remorse; he is a man to be feared. He runs this whole city and has many spies."

  "Plus he has a weird thing about his height," said Plowstow.

  "So where is this ship, and how do we get it?" Saoirse asked.

  "In the shipyard, of course," said L.

  "L what are you not telling us? Phoenix asked.

  "Nothing, nothing..."

  "L."

  "Okay. Okay. Their base of operations is in front of the shipyard. They kind of own it, but I wouldn't class what they did to get it as legal."

  "How do you know the ship is even
there? I mean, you have been in Dredar for a while. Anyone could have taken it," said Plowstow.

  L drummed her fingers along the table before she answered. "Because I have set security measures preventing the ship being flown unless I authorize it."

  "But how do you--"

  "Because I am the best at what I do, Plowstow! Because I built that ship with my bare hands. It took years. But I know that ship in and out." She paused, and continued, stressing each word. "It's still here."

  "So what's the plan?" asked Phoenix.

  "We take back my ship, and we get my brother back," said L with fire in her voice.

  10

  A wet thud echoed off the walls of the warehouse. The sound was ominous but had an incessant hypnotic pattern to it.

  Blake walked into the warehouse and nodded to a few of the men standing guard. He kicked the few that were asleep awake as he passed by. Bottles littered the floor, and dirty plates were piled sky high on any available surface.

  Blake came to a stop and pinched a plate by two fingers. Its greasy contents slid to the floor and landed with a flop. Blake pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in and out slowly.

  It was no good.

  He threw the plate at the group of men he had just woken, and it hit one square in the face.

  "What the fuck, Blake?" said the man he had just hit.

  Blake moved his hands back and forth rapidly, pointing to the plates around him and the mess on the floor.

  "We were going to clean it up in a minute. There's no need to act like that."

  Blake raised his eyebrow at the man and rolled his eyes.

  "Honestly, we were just going to get to it. There's no need to act like that, now, is there?"

  Blake pointed to each man in turn and then pointed to the mess, snapping his fingers. He turned to leave but halted in his tracks. Signalling to the group again, he got the answer that he wanted.

  "Yeah, Duke's in. Just follow the noise and you're bound to find him," said one of the men.

  Blake walked out the way he came and tilted his head upwards. Rotating his head, like a bloodhound tracking a scent, he zeroed in on the sound that echoed around the building. He began to walk in that direction, nodding his head confidently.

 

‹ Prev