Deathstalker 01 - Deathstalker

"We made it all the way here, across half the damn Empire, in just one jump. It normally takes at least seven, and only then if you've got a shit hot navigator. How much power did we just burn up?"
    "Hardly any," said Owen smugly. "I told you, this is a whole new kind of stardrive. It's going to make everything else obsolete."
    "How does it work?" said Hazel.
    Owen shrugged. "I don't know. I just bought the ship; I didn't design it. I had my AI scan the manual so it could fly the thing, but I've only flipped through
    it. I'm not really very technically minded. I've always had people to do that sort of thing for me."
    Hazel sniffed. "That's one attitude you'll have to lose, aristo. An outlaw can't afford to rely on anyone but themselves."
    "You should know," said Owen easily. "All right, what's our next step?"
    "We ask very politely for landing permission. Once we're dirtside, we're protected by the planet's espers, but out here we're a sitting duck for the first Imperial ship to come along. It won't take them long to come here looking for us, and while this ship might be fast, it's got no heavy-duty weapons systems at all."
    "Well, no," said Owen. "It's a pleasure yacht, not a warship."
    "Next time, look a little further in the catalogue. I'll contact Mistport. It's the only starport on Mistworld. In fact, it's their only city. It's not what you'd call a densely populated world, and once you've lived there for a while you'll know why. Desolate bloody place, all snow and ice and fog. I just hope I can pull a few strings, call in some old favors. It's been a while since I was last here, and I'm not sure if I've got any friends left in Mistport."
    She was silent for a long moment, frowning, and Owen studied her thoughtfully.
    She fascinated him, if only because he'd never met anyone like her before. He'd grown up believing the only good rebel was a dead rebel, and now he was one. His life had changed completely, and he was going to have to understand Hazel and her world if he was to survive in it.
    "What brought you here before?" he said casually.
    Hazel started, jerked out of her thoughts, then shrugged selfconsciously. "I spent some time here recovering after my stint as a mercenary on Loki, during the succession wars. As usual, with my native wit and massive experience, I had
    no trouble picking the losing side to sign on with. We got our ass kicked good, my side scattered to the winds, and I ended up here because it was the only place my enemies wouldn't come looking for me. As it turned out, I was wrong about that, too, but that's another story."
    "What are we going to do once we've landed?" said Owen. "A hell of a lot of people are going to be looking for me, and the price on my head would tempt a sainted nun."
    "What's this we bit?" said Hazel. "I hauled your ass out of the line of fire because I couldn't just stand by and watch you die, but I haven't adopted you.
    In fact, if I'd known your were an aristo, I'd probably have joined in the shooting myself. As it is, once we are safely down, I am going my way and you can go yours. The last thing I need is a know-nothing tenderfoot like you slowing me down and attracting attention. I have my life to rebuild, and that's going to be hard enough without carrying a passenger."
    "I am quite capable of looking after myself," said Owen hotly. "I have been trained as a warrior by some of the finest tutors in the Empire!"
    "Judging by what I've seen, you should ask for your money back. You're a liability, Owen, and I've got my own problems. You'll do all right. Selling this ship should make you one of the wealthiest people on Mistworld, if you don't let yourself get fleeced."
    "Sell Sunstrider! Are you out of your mind? She's my only chance for getting off this planet!"
    "Owen, you're not going anywhere. This is the end of the line for people like us. Mistworld is the only planet where you can hope to survive. Anywhere else, they'll cut your head off the moment you raise it to look around. You aren't
    going to find it easy here, but at least you'll have a fighting chance. And that's the best you can ever hope for as an outlaw."
    Owen thought hard. Much as he hated to admit it, he needed Hazel d'Ark. She was loud, overbearing and definitely common, but she understood this new world of outlaws, and as yet he didn't.
    "You can't just abandon me," he said plaintively. "You have contacts here; I don't know anyone. You can't just walk off and leave me to the wolves."
    "Watch me,"