Deathstalker 07 - Deathstalker Return

to Rose for insisting on dueling lessons. They stopped him going crazy from boredom. He shot Lewis and Jesamine a sulky glare, for being so cheerful.
    "Well, look who's finally emerged from the Cabin of Joy. I take it the bedroom gymnastics are over, for now? You're using up your gos, you know. If you're not careful, you'll run out."
    "Oz, talk to me," said Lewis, ignoring Brett with the ease of long practice. "How much further to Lachrymae Christi?"
    "We're there!" said the ship's AI cheerfully. "We dropped out of hyperspace and moved into high orbit just over four hours ago. No one else could have got you here this quickly. I'm just a navigating fool.
    Grease my circuits and call me Speedy! You don't appreciate me, you know."
    "We're here?" said Lewis. "Why didn't you tell me?"
    "Because you were otherwise engaged," Ozymandias said loftily. And very noisily, too. Far be it from me to interrupt. If you're ready to get involved in the mission again, I'll bring you up to date on everything
    that's been happening."
    "Don't you get snotty with me," Lewis growled. "You're just a porn smuggler's ship's AI with a quick personality overlay."
    "I'm also the only one around here who can work out hyperspace reentry coordinates," said Oz, unruffled. "So keep a civil tongue in your head. I don't know what it is about Deathstalkers, but they're always really crabby first thing in the morning. I blame it on bad potty training. Now then, I've run a full scan, to the limits, of my sensors, and there's no sign of Imperial ships lurking anywhere in the vicinity."
    "That's odd," Brett said immediately. "You'd have thought the Durandal would have sent at least one starcruiser to stop us making contact with Tobias Moon."
    "It's not odd at all," the AI said condescendingly. "As you'd know if you'd done your homework on Lachrymae Christi. I did provide you all with complete files on the planet. Lachrymae Christi is one big jungle, full of vicious, aggressive, and semisentient plants of such a predatory nature that animal life never got a look in here. All of these plants have a mass consciousness called the Red Brain. And Big Red is apparently very picky over who gets to orbit his world. Really bad things have been known to happen to ships that don't pay attention to his warnings. The only ships allowed to land at the only starport are trading ships, strictly by appointment only. However, I have contacted one Natashia Wells at the starport, and she's willing to talk to a Deathstalker. Shall I put her on?"
    "Might as well," said Lewis.
    "You don't appreciate me, you really don't."
    "Hello there, uninvited ship!" said a snappy female voice from the comm unit. "Don't start kicking your equipment, we've lost picture again. It's going to be one of those days, I can tell, and me with one of my heads. This is Natashia Wells, hailing you from the St. Beatrice Memorial Starport, letting you know that you are not at all welcome— unless you're carrying comm unit spares. Or chocolate. You aren't, are you? I thought not. If it was up to me, I'd tell you all to go to Hell by the express route, but Tobias Moon vouches for you, and I don't get any say in the matter."
    "At least now we know Moon is still alive," Jesamine said quietly.
    "What was that?" said Natashia. "Speak up! I hate muttering! So, you're Lewis Deathstalker and companions, on the Hereward. You wouldn't believe what your ship was carrying the last time it tried to dock here. Anyway, you're late. We've been expecting you for days. Moon assured us you were coming a week ago, and that man is never wrong—which is actually kind of creepy when you think about it, so let's agree not to. Now then, I have to check my list. According to Moon, Sir Deathstalker, you should have with you… one diva, one confidence trickster, one homicidal psychopath, and a reptiloid, whatever the hell that is. Is that correct?"
    "Well, yes," said Lewis. How did Moon know that? "Trust me, I'm no happier about it than you are."
    "If it was up to me, I'd shoot the lot of you down right now, on general principle," said Natashia. "But no one ever listens to me. No good will come of this. My computers are sending you landing coordinates.
    Don't get it wrong. We're the only starport on the planet, with strictly limited space on the landing pads, by choice. We don't encourage visitors. Hell, we do everything but throw rocks at them and insult their mothers, and still they keep coming. So, land where you're told, and then