just on the off chance he might be there, Raniko was cuffing the man Brandana loved to a gold plated bar on one of her many suede settees.
Brandana shed a quiet tear. She was not usually the crying type but she had experienced a very hard couple of days. It seemed that Devon had disappeared from the face of the planet when she was so desperate to be held in his arms. She had indulged in her first same sex relationship and she had disappeared too and only yesterday she was flying through the air bombing vicious Ratt Pirates. Life suddenly took its toll and she rested against the hotel wall, utterly exhausted.
Back in Hans’ ship, Brandana collapsed into the co-pilot seat.
“You alright, sis?”
“Fine. Just get me off this planet and quickly.”
“No Devon?”
“I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Sorry.” Hans shrugged.
“Give it up. You didn’t want me to find him anyway.”
“I know, but I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it. Tell you what,” a mischievous look spread across Hans’ face. “I know what might cheer you up.”
“What?” she sulked.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. What do you say to a bit of good, old fashioned revenge?”
Brandana blinked. “Go on.”
“On Queen Uno. How about making yourself feel better by dropping a bomb on her palace or ripping the place apart with some lasers and missiles? I’ve heard she secretly supports the Ratt Pirates.”
“Really, or are you just saying that?”
“You decide.” Hans winked.
“I tell you what, even though your idea does sound fun, how about we make a real change on Irella? We could kidnap her, yeah, and make her change her planet’s stupid, outdated, cruel traditions.”
Hans’ face fell. “Boom, boom! Crash, crash! Come on, it would be so much fun!”
“No. We will kidnap her, with a purpose.”
“You’re getting old and boring,” Hans moaned but still wasted no time in plotting their new course back to Irella.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brody Feels The Pressure
As if he was not busy and stressed out enough, Hudson Brody’s planning of his next urgent mission was interrupted by an urgent call from the interplanetary police hot line, a direct line which was never used except in emergencies. Calls came straight through and were not even vetted by his secretary.
“Brody? Inspector Carter. Is this a good time?”
Hudson inwardly groaned. A call from him meant that something had gone badly wrong, or was about to. He felt a lot of dirty work about to fall into his lap. Stuff that he was not allowed to talk about. Nevertheless, the police force put a lot of money into Star Fighters every financial year, some of it dubious, all of it lucrative.
“Carter, good to hear from you,” he lied through his teeth, automatically switching to his best business voice. “How can I be of service?”
“I hear you recently took a job from the ruler of Irella.”
“Queen Uno.” Hudson knew she would be trouble.
“Yes. Thing is, she’s been kidnapped.”
Hudson felt genuine shock and a wave of uncertainty. The bad thing had already happened. “Really? When?”
“An hour ago.”
“Any idea who or why?”
“They left a note. Check your email, I’m sending it to you now.”
Hudson did so. The note read, ‘On behalf of all servants of this tyrannical Irellan rule, your Queen has been kidnapped. For the while she will remain safe. Until our demands are met. We demand the following things:
1. Set sensible and fair hours for all servants, in keeping with universal rules governing maximum hours allowable.
2. Fair pay for all servants, in keeping with universal rules governing minimum wage.
3. Better living conditions for servants.
4. More holidays for servants.
5. The complete abandonment of the keeping of bipenes for royal marriages and any other slave duty.
Our ship is in Irellan orbit awaiting your decision. If our demands are not met, your Queen will suffer. You
Brandana shed a quiet tear. She was not usually the crying type but she had experienced a very hard couple of days. It seemed that Devon had disappeared from the face of the planet when she was so desperate to be held in his arms. She had indulged in her first same sex relationship and she had disappeared too and only yesterday she was flying through the air bombing vicious Ratt Pirates. Life suddenly took its toll and she rested against the hotel wall, utterly exhausted.
Back in Hans’ ship, Brandana collapsed into the co-pilot seat.
“You alright, sis?”
“Fine. Just get me off this planet and quickly.”
“No Devon?”
“I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Sorry.” Hans shrugged.
“Give it up. You didn’t want me to find him anyway.”
“I know, but I didn’t think you’d be this upset about it. Tell you what,” a mischievous look spread across Hans’ face. “I know what might cheer you up.”
“What?” she sulked.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. What do you say to a bit of good, old fashioned revenge?”
Brandana blinked. “Go on.”
“On Queen Uno. How about making yourself feel better by dropping a bomb on her palace or ripping the place apart with some lasers and missiles? I’ve heard she secretly supports the Ratt Pirates.”
“Really, or are you just saying that?”
“You decide.” Hans winked.
“I tell you what, even though your idea does sound fun, how about we make a real change on Irella? We could kidnap her, yeah, and make her change her planet’s stupid, outdated, cruel traditions.”
Hans’ face fell. “Boom, boom! Crash, crash! Come on, it would be so much fun!”
“No. We will kidnap her, with a purpose.”
“You’re getting old and boring,” Hans moaned but still wasted no time in plotting their new course back to Irella.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brody Feels The Pressure
As if he was not busy and stressed out enough, Hudson Brody’s planning of his next urgent mission was interrupted by an urgent call from the interplanetary police hot line, a direct line which was never used except in emergencies. Calls came straight through and were not even vetted by his secretary.
“Brody? Inspector Carter. Is this a good time?”
Hudson inwardly groaned. A call from him meant that something had gone badly wrong, or was about to. He felt a lot of dirty work about to fall into his lap. Stuff that he was not allowed to talk about. Nevertheless, the police force put a lot of money into Star Fighters every financial year, some of it dubious, all of it lucrative.
“Carter, good to hear from you,” he lied through his teeth, automatically switching to his best business voice. “How can I be of service?”
“I hear you recently took a job from the ruler of Irella.”
“Queen Uno.” Hudson knew she would be trouble.
“Yes. Thing is, she’s been kidnapped.”
Hudson felt genuine shock and a wave of uncertainty. The bad thing had already happened. “Really? When?”
“An hour ago.”
“Any idea who or why?”
“They left a note. Check your email, I’m sending it to you now.”
Hudson did so. The note read, ‘On behalf of all servants of this tyrannical Irellan rule, your Queen has been kidnapped. For the while she will remain safe. Until our demands are met. We demand the following things:
1. Set sensible and fair hours for all servants, in keeping with universal rules governing maximum hours allowable.
2. Fair pay for all servants, in keeping with universal rules governing minimum wage.
3. Better living conditions for servants.
4. More holidays for servants.
5. The complete abandonment of the keeping of bipenes for royal marriages and any other slave duty.
Our ship is in Irellan orbit awaiting your decision. If our demands are not met, your Queen will suffer. You
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