Stranded!

by Jim Ladd

  “What’s wrong with a few crabs?” Sam asked the cowering crew. But most of them were superstitiously tying themselves in knots, trying to tap their elbows with their knees, or reciting the pirate code backwards to ward off trouble.

  Sam looked at the jabbering pirates and sighed. Well, we’ve got to do something, he thought to himself, grabbing the wheel to steer the Jolly Apollo deeper into the nebula. “If we go in here then Black-Hole Weird won’t be able to find us – and if he can’t find us then he can’t pinch the map, or the grum,” Sam explained.

  He turned to look at the crew – but the pirates still looked petrified.

  Sam looked at the scared pirates and felt a tremor of dread.

  All around the ship the mists of the dark nebula swirled, and shadows on the rocks scratched and scuttled. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “It’s this place!” shouted Captain Comet. “Don’t you know where you’ve brought us?”

  “No,” said Sam, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach.

  “It’s the Crab Nebula!” hissed Comet.

  The very mention of the name set the crew weeping and wailing.

  “The Crab Nebula?” Sam replied. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Really?” said Comet sarcastically. “No ship that enters the Crab Nebula ever returns!”

  Chapter Four

  TRAPPED

  The thick gas clouds of the nebula surrounded the Jolly Apollo. Half of the crew had broken open a barrel of grum and the other half were frantically packing. The three that could write were scribbling letters home.

  “Oh, woe is us!” moaned Barney.

  “Cursed to suffer the horrors of the Crab Nebula!” cried another.

  “Yeah, nice work, small fry,” snarled Pegg.

  The crew stared at Sam accusingly.

  “I didn’t know it was the Crab Nebula!” Sam protested. “And we had to get away from Black-Hole Beard. We couldn’t let him get the map. My parents are counting on us.”

  “We can’t help your parents if we’re crab-food,” said Legg sadly.

  “You know what they say about the Crab Nebula?” said Pegg crossly.

  “Well no, actually,” said Sam with a sigh.

  “Those who in the crab cloud do sail,

  Will weep and cry and shout and wail,” replied Zlit. “And that’s just one of the sayings!”

  “And they say there’s a monstrous race that live here,” Romero gulped.

  “They eat pirates for breakfast,” Zlit said, snapping his jaws.

  “And lunch!” Barney said, wobbling his tentacles around nervously.

  “No, listen to me!” said Sam. “It’s OK! We can just turn around and go back. We haven’t travelled very far into the nebula so it’ll be easy to navigate our way out. And if this place is so scary then Black-Hole Beard won’t risk trying to find us. Even if he does we’re so well hidden it would be easier to find a Paloobian Jink Flea in a Strumian Hair Beast.”

  “Hey – my mother was a Strumian Hair Beast!” said Strax.

  “But to be fair,” said Pegg, “she did have fleas.”

  “And they were hard to find,” added Legg.

  “All we have to do is wait here until we think Black-Hole Beard has got bored, then we can continue on our way,” Sam reasoned.

  There was a minute of silence, and then the pirates cheered in relief. Suddenly everyone was clinking their grum glasses happily and unpacking their bowling shoes.

  “Well, in that case,” said Comet, the swagger returning to his demeanour, “why don’t we have that game of bowling I was talking about? And I’ll put up this as a prize to the winner.”

  He held up his golden fob watch – a fine timepiece that could tell the precise hour in three different galaxies at the same time. A huge cheer went up from the crew.

  “Hurray for Comet!” they cried. “The best captain under the seven suns!”

  Sam raised his eyes to the heavens as the distracted crew clattered happily below decks. Then he spotted the Kraken, Barney, standing by the ship’s rails with his tentacles dangling over the side.

  “Not coming, Barney?” Sam asked.

  “No,” he replied, with an excited smile on his face. “Fresh crab is my favourite – I’m going fishing.”

  He took a series of crab nets from the storage place on the deck and started throwing them over the side of the ship. Sam smiled and left him to it. He knew that no matter how tasty the crabs were, Barney would ruin them with his cooking.

  Below decks the bowling competition had already started. The Jolly Apollo may have been a terrible pirate ship, but it was an excellent place to go bowling. The wide hull of the spaceship meant that the Apollo could comfortably fit three bowling lanes into the space – instead of the normal one lane found on most pirate ships. Not only that, but in the space that other ships would use for laser cannons, the Apollo’s crew had squeezed in another two bowling lanes.

  Sam grabbed a foaming glass of lemonady grum and wandered over to where Comet was preparing to bowl. Through a mixture of skill, rule-bending and outright cheating, Captain Comet was the Apollo’s bowling champion, and it was not a title he was going to lose without a fight – whether it was a fair one or not. Last time Sam had played the captain, Comet had nudged the cabin boy just as he was about to bowl, coughed and sneezed to distract Sam, and had even taken extra goes, saying the first ones had just been “a practice”.

  But this match was between Comet and a Snippernaut called Romero. Unfortunately for Comet, none of his tricks were working against Romero. In the last round of bowling the scores were tied. The tension had clearly got to Comet. His first ball missed all ten pins.

  “Blistering barnacles!” he wailed. “That ball is clearly broken!”

  The crew laughed as Comet showed the ball around, pointing out a small mark on the surface.

  “Use mine, Cap’n,” offered Vulpus.

  Comet took the new ball and readied himself. He took aim, swung his arm back and hurled the ball as hard as he could. It was a terrible shot that bounced twice and leapt right over the pins.

  “Curse this slippery track!” he shouted. “Who’s been over-polishing this lane?”

  Sam grinned. The slipperiness of the lane hadn’t been a problem when Comet was winning.

  “Romero just needs one hover pin to win,” commentated Legg.

  “And he’ll break Comet’s bowling record as well!” sniggered Pegg.

  Romero sauntered confidently over to the lane, his lucky bowling ball held firmly in his lobster-like pincers. He slowly drew his arm back, ready to strike…

  “Well! I think Black-Hole Beard is probably long gone now, so all hands on deck and let’s get out of this nebula,” said Comet, clapping his hands together.

  The crew laughed and booed. Romero threw his bowling ball down and snapped his claws angrily.

  “Yes, well, can’t be helped,” said Comet shamelessly. “Let’s remember what we’re meant to be doing – finding Planet X, not bowling! Romero, let’s call it a draw. You had me worried there for a while, but to be honest I think the pressure was about to get to you. Actually, this probably saved you some embarrassment.”

  The crew trooped up on deck, joking about Comet’s brazen cheek. They all agreed he was a massive cheat – but as pirates they quite admired that. They laughed as they readied the spaceship for its journey. But minutes later they still hadn’t moved.

  “Cap’n, I think you should see this!” called Legg.

  The two-headed first mate was standing next to the instrument panel by the ship’s wheel.

  “Everything’s gone haywire, Cap’n,” he explained as Comet and the rest of the crew gathered around. “It must be this here nebula – the instruments are all pointing in different directions.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Sam.

  “What it means, shipmate,” replied Comet, looking worried, “is that we’re flying blind. So I don’t know how we’re going to find our way out!
”

  Chapter Five

  SPACE TRAWLER

  If there was one thing that the crew of the Jolly Apollo was used to, it was getting lost. However, this time it was different. Normally there were stars and planets around and eventually someone in the crew would recognize one of them and they would find their way again. It usually took a long time, but they would do it. Surrounded by the thick dust clouds of the Crab Nebula, the crew could see nothing but the occasional crab-covered lump of rock. It didn’t look good.

  Sam grabbed one of the telescopes, hoping against hope that the extra power would help him see something through the fog.

  “I’ve got as much chance of seeing something if I put the telescope to one of these,” said Comet, tapping one of his eye patches.

  “So much for your great idea,” Pegg grumbled bitterly.

  Sam felt terrible. Pegg’s right, he thought. It was my idea to come here.

  “Leave the kid alone,” said Barney. “He’s saved us before and he’ll do it again.”

  Sam didn’t feel so sure, but he appreciated the vote of confidence.

  “And why are you so cheery, Tentacle Toes?” said Pegg.

  “Well, one, I trust Sam. And two, I’ve got these,” Barney replied, holding up a net full of crabs. “I’ve only ever seen these at the fish market at Piscus 5. You can only harvest them in this nebula.”

  “You can buy them?” asked Sam excitedly.

  “Sure, but they’re very expensive…”

  “But if you can buy them, then ships do get out of here!” cried Sam triumphantly. “All we have to do is find a space trawler and follow it.”

  “Oh, is that all?” said Pegg sarcastically.

  “Do you have a better idea?” asked Legg. “No, I thought not.”

  “Pegg and Legg are arguing again, so that might be a good sign,” said Comet doubtfully. “But how we’re going to spot anything in this cloud is beyond me.”

  “We don’t have to see a trawler,” said Barney. “We can smell one. These crabs taste great, but they really stink something awful once they’ve been caught. We’ll smell a ship full of them from way off.”

  He thrust his catch at the crew, who wrinkled their noses at the stench.

  “Come on then,” said Sam. “Let’s get sniffing!”

  Nearly a day had passed before the unmistakable waft of caught-crab hit the Jolly Apollo. Slowly the pirates guided the ship towards the smell. A shape became visible through the mist – the outline of a space trawler. But something wasn’t right – the ship was leaning over on one side and it looked like it was limping rather than flying. As the Apollo got closer they could see why – one side of the trawler’s hull had been torn open. A huge pincer-shaped hole gaped in the side of the ship.

  “Aye, aye, what’s this then?” asked Comet.

  “Looks like we both need help,” said Sam.

  “Bring the Apollo alongside, we’re going to investigate,” commanded Comet.

  The pirate ship moored next to the trawler and dropped its gravity anchor. Sam went across with some of the crew. The fishermen looked petrified, cowering on the decks as the pirates stepped aboard.

  “Do not fear, it’s Captain Joseph Hercules Invictus Comet to the rescue!” Comet announced grandly, stabbing his laser cutlass in the air at every word.

  “Errr, maybe put the laser cutlass down?” Sam suggested, as the fishermen shrank back further in fear.

  Comet slipped the cutlass in his belt and bowed deeply. “I assure you that under the oath of the pirate code, I am here to help. Yes, I may be the galaxy-famous buccaneer but I mean you no harm. Perhaps you may have heard of me?”

  Comet looked at them expectantly. The crew of the trawler looked blank.

  “Captain Comet… fearless leader of the bloodthirsty crew of the Jolly Apollo…?” said Comet hopefully, waving an arm in the general direction of his ship. The crew looked bored and thirsty rather than fearsome and threatening.

  The fisherman looked none the wiser until one of them stepped forwards with a wide smile on his face.

  “Ahhh, Captain Comeet!”

  The trawlerman nudged his fellow crewmen. He tucked his hands under his armpits and waggled his arms like wings, clucking louder than a Pangolian chicken.

  “Comeet, Comeet!” he cried. “Cluck, cluck, cluuuuuck, cluck.”

  Suddenly the rest of the fishermen knew exactly who Comet was and they erupted into laughter.

  “Boo!” shouted one of the fishermen. The one who was being a chicken then pretended to wet his pants – much to the amusement of the others.

  “How odd,” said Comet. “It must be a local dance or something – perhaps one of gratitude?”

  The crew of the Jolly Apollo smirked knowingly.

  “Anyhow, we haven’t got time for this!” Comet raised his voice to a shout and started gesticulating wildly. “TELL MEEE, my GOOD FEL-LOWS. What HAP-pen-ed to your VES-sel?”

  The trawlermen looked blankly at Comet.

  “Perhaps I can help, Captain?” said Barney.

  “Now, Barney, much as I appreciate your kind offer I really can’t see what your, errm, unique cooking skills will add to this particular situation.”

  But Barney was already chatting to the trawlermen in a language that sounded to Sam like a sequence of burps and slurps.

  “Barney, you can speak their language!” he exclaimed.

  Barney blushed slightly. “Yes, I found that if you want the best crabs you’ve got to be able to talk to the fishermen. Picked up that tip years ago. Ooh, I got some delicious crabs back then – cooked them in a sauce made of—”

  “Yes, yes, I’m sure it was lovely,” said Comet irritably, “but what caused the damage to their ship?”

  “I forgot to ask,” said Barney. He spoke to them again.

  The fishermen all started talking at once.

  “Ooooh,” said Barney in reply. “Oh dear.”

  “So?” asked Comet.

  “Well, apparently,” said Barney, “it was like a crab, but one as big as an asteroid with claws twice as big as the Apollo!”

  Suddenly Comet looked pale. “I wish I hadn’t asked,” he said.

  Chapter Six

  THE THANGALOIDS

  While the trawlermen filled Barney in on the exact details of the monster-crab attack, Pegg and Legg inspected the damage.

  “This old stink tub is in no condition to fly,” said Pegg sourly.

  “They asked if we can tow them,” Barney said, coming over.

  “Out of the nebula?” Legg asked, hopefully.

  “No,” Barney shook his head. “They went a bit funny when I asked if they knew the way out. But they said there’s a small port in the middle of the nebula.”

  “A port?” Sam said in surprise. “That’s great! They’ll be able to tell us the way out. See, not everyone’s as scared of this nebula as you lot are.”

  “Those fishermen look pretty scared to me…” Pegg snorted.

  “We don’t have much choice,” Comet sighed. “Barney, tell them we’ll tow them to the port.”

  “A port full of pirate-eating monsters…” Barney whispered.

  As the port appeared through the mists, Sam felt more and more nervous. He tried to keep calm in front of the crew, but he was worried they were heading into danger. As they got closer to the big asteroid the port was built on, his stomach lurched like he’d just had second helpings of one of Barney’s dinners.

  The Jolly Apollo docked and lowered its gangplank and the trawler moored alongside. The port didn’t look dangerous – it seemed like a glorified fish market. Even from the deck Sam could see types and shapes of fish that he had never seen before.

  “I think it’s OK,” he called to the crew, who were hiding below deck. “Barney, look at all these fish!”

  Barney slid up to Sam and squealed. “Look at them, just look at them! There’s grungfish, and a hoopla eel – you can’t find them anywhere these days!”

  Barney took an ex
cited step on to the gangplank – and three huge blue aliens stepped on to the other end and started marching towards them. They were tall and burly, with slimy suckers sprouting all over their bald heads and faces.

  “I don’t like the look of this…” Sam muttered as he and Barney hurried back up the gangplank on to the Jolly Apollo. The rest of the crew were there, looking decidedly nervous. Sam looked over to the trawler – where more blue aliens were leading the captain away.

  “Who are they?” Sam asked Captain Comet.

  Comet was trembling so much his eye patches were flapping.

  “They’re Thangaloids,” Comet replied. “Quite possibly the meanest, grumpiest people in the galaxy. The first thing you learn as a young deck-swabber is to stay well clear of Thangaloids. This is very, very bad news.”

  Sam groaned. “Do they really eat pirates?”

  “No, but they don’t like us,” Comet shuddered. “They’re the only people in the galaxy that don’t like grum. They probably live here so they don’t have to meet anyone, and we’ve just wandered up to their house and rung the doorbell.”

  “Nice,” said Sam.

  “There’s no such word as ‘nice’ in the Thangaloid vocabulary. And there’s no Thangaloid word for ‘joke’. They replaced their sense of humour with a sense of violence.”

  “Silence!” shouted the lead Thangaloid in a voice that sounded like a bucket of broken glass being stirred with a mallet. “Who is captain of this…” he looked sneeringly around the Apollo, “…vessel?”

  “He is,” said Comet, pointing at Sam.

  The Thangaloid peered suspiciously at them both.

  “So why,” he asked, his face so close to Comet’s that the luckless pirate could see the Thangaloid’s slime-filled suckers, “do you have a badge with ‘I’m the Captain’ written on it?”