Deathstalker 04 - Deathstalker Honor

is coming up awfully fast! Brace yourselves, people! This is going to hurt!”
    The Sunstrider II came howling down out of the clouds, slicing through the pouring rain so quickly that the water evaporated before it could even touch the hull. And then the jungle reached up and the battered yacht tore a ragged path through the trees, slowing gradually until finally it slammed to a halt in a cloud of steam and ripped-up vegetation. The engines shut down, and all was quiet for a while, save for the gentle, continuous hiss of rain falling on the super-heated hull.
    Inside, the yacht’s passengers sat slumped in their crash webbing, letting their heartbeats and breathing slow gradually back to normal. Apart from Moon, who had already thrown aside his webbing and was leaning over the control panels, studying the sensor readings. Owen sighed heavily. “Well, there goes another bloody yacht. Let’s all pray that the damage is repairable, or we’re going to be spending an extended holiday in this charming little paradise. There isn’t another supply ship due here for months.
    Moon, any life-form readings out there?”
    “Just the jungle,” said Moon. “Plant life in various forms. No animals, or insects. And no humans in sensor range. We are alone.” “Finally, some news from Moon that I can live with,” said Hazel. “How far are we from Saint Bea’s Mission?”

“Main computers are still down,” said Moon. “I am currently unable to access that information.”
    “Oz?” said Owen.
    “If the ship followed the trajectory I plotted, we’re not too far from where we should be,” murmured the AI. “The Mission should be located some ten miles north-northeast of here. Though that is of course an estimate. Things got a little hairy there at the end. Allowing for error, we could be talking a twenty-mile hike. Still, what’s a few miles trekking through impenetrable jungle? The exercise will do you good.”
    Owen shook his head tiredly. “This is Shandrakor all over again, I just know it.”
    “Not necessarily,” said Moon. “At least this time there are no hungry killer aliens out there. There is no animal life on the entire planet, apart from the colonists. Though the files do contain some rather disturbing accounts of encounters with large and mobile vegetation displaying a distinctly antagonistic attitude.”
    “Killer plants,” said Bonnie. “Wonderful. Look, will somebody please fill me in on what the hell we’re doing here? I was quite happily halfway through a four-day drunk when I got your message. You made it sound quite sane at the time.”
    “The state you were in, you would have volunteered for a mission to Shub,” said Midnight. “How can you abuse your body in such a fashion?” “Practice, darling, practice.” Bonnie dropped the black warrior woman a wink, and she looked away, exasperated. Bonnie laughed. “Come on, somebody fill in the blanks for me. Do I at least get to kill somebody? Preferably lots of somebodies?”
    “We’re here on a mercy mission,” Owen said patiently. “Mother Superior Beatrice Christiana, better known as the Saint of Technos III, resigned from running the reformed Church to come and run a
    Mission here for the leper colonists. Being who she is, she soon turned the Mission into a social and communications center for the whole planet, and combined the various scattered settlements into one people at last. They were actually on the verge of becoming a viable, self-sustaining colony when the Hadenmen attacked. Which is presumably what that bloody golden ship was doing here. Anyway, there’s a force of Hadenmen down here, concentrating their attacks on Saint Bea’s Mission. We are here to protect the Mission and its people.”
    “Why us?” said Bonnie. “Why isn’t the regular army here, earning its pay?” “Because the regular army doesn’t give a toss about a colony of lepers. Everyone Saint Bea approached was busy elsewhere.
    Finally she approached me personally, and,” said Owen, smiling ruefully, “I find it kind of hard to say no to a Saint.”
    “Next time ask me,” said Bonnie. “I’ll coach you. There are no Saints where I come from, Deathstalker.
    We eat them.”
    “Right,” said Midnight. “One of the first things we did after overthrowing the Empire was to dissolve the established Church, and replace it with the Mystical Order of Steel. We are warriors, and we follow the warrior way.” “Sometimes I wonder if our worlds have