Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

white and splotchy from pain and shock. She was also carrying the biggest and ugliest handgun he'd ever seen. She glared at him and gestured at the interior of her ship.
    "Move, you idiot! Those bastards will be back any moment, and I for one don't plan to be here when they get their act together and start shooting. Shift your ass and get in here!"
    Owen lurched forward. He didn't know who she was, or what she wanted with him, and he didn't care. A moment before he'd been ready to die, but now he'd found hope again, and he wanted to live. He could recognize destiny when it came calling. He could take a hint. He stumbled up the ramp, leaving a bloody trail behind him, and she yanked it up the moment he was clear and slammed the hatch shut. There were two sets of crash webbing just inside, and Owen sank gratefully into one as the woman threw herself into the other and jabbed frantically at the control panels. The ship lurched under him, engines roared, then they were up and off and moving. Owen let the webbing support him and studied his rescuer thoughtfully. The most obvious guess was that she wanted the reward on his head
    and didn't feel like sharing, but somehow he didn't think so. He supposed he should cautiously draw her out with clever questions and gradually determine what she wanted with him, but he didn't have the strength or the patience. So, when ail else fails, be direct. He cleared his throat painfully.
    "I'm Owen Deathstalker. Who are you, and why did you help me?"
    His voice sounded weak and thin to him, but if his rescuer noticed, it didn't show in her answer. "I'm Hazel d'Ark. How I got here's rather complicated. I rescued you because I didn't like the odds you were facing. I've always had a soft spot for the underdog. What did you do to get so many people mad at you?"
    "I've been outlawed. There's a very attractive price on my head, if you think you can take it."
    "Relax, stud. I'm an outlaw, too. No way I could collect your price without getting topped myself. There's a lot of us about these days, but then, that's the Iron Bitch for you. Deathstalker. That name rings a bell."
    "I should hope so," said Owen wryly. "I used to be Lord of this planet."
    Hazel whistled. "I'm impressed. I don't normally move in such high circles.
    Look, you got any ideas where I should point this tub? There are five ships right behind us and closing fast. I feel I should also point out this is a ship's escape pod, and my power cells are almost dead, so don't start getting ambitious. We've got maybe forty minutes of flight left, assuming I don't have to divert power to the energy shields."
    Owen hesitated. "You still haven't explained why you risked your ship and yourself to rescue me."
    "Underdogs have to learn to look out for each other because no one else will. An outlaw needs all the friends he can get. You'll learn that, if you survive this mess. Life as an outlaw can be very enlightening."

    "All right. Head due north. There should be a large lake about ten miles from here, unless I'm even more lost than I thought I was. Tell me when we get there."
    He lay back in the crash webbing and fought to clear his thoughts. He had an ally now, and a second chance at escape. If she could just get him to the Sunstrider, he might yet live to get his revenge after all. The thought stirred new strength in him, and he took a second look at his surroundings. Apart from the crash webbing, the control panels, and the bulkheads, there wasn't much to look at. It was all pretty minimalist, but it seemed solid enough. Presumably there wasn't much point in wasting frills and fancies on an escape pod.
    "It's been a long time since I traveled in anything this primitive," he said finally. "What does it run on: steam?"
    "Any more smart remarks like that and you can get out and push," said Hazel.
    "Don't knock this tub. It's saving your ass and mine. Okay, forward sensors report a large body of water dead ahead. Rear sensors report a whole mess of people coming after us in everything that flies. You'd better have a plan to get us out of this, Deathstalker, because I am fast running out of options."
    "Relax," said Owen. "I have an ace up my sleeve and it's a beauty. In fact, she's waiting for us at the bottom of that lake."
    Hazel looked across at him sharply. "Wait a minute; we're going diving?"
    "You got it. My private yacht is sitting in its own little niche right at the bottom, hidden from everything but heavy-duty sensors. No one knows it's