by Jim Ladd
“Mr Piole, set a course for first left at every asteroid we come to,” said Comet.
The ship was soon out of the treacherous Crab Nebula. Sam and Comet stood on deck, looking at the vastness of space.
“Well, we escaped that one, but how do we get to the Corkscrew Galaxy?” said Comet, holding the scrap of map. “The galaxy is on the map, but the Crab Nebula isn’t, so how do we know which direction to travel in?”
Suddenly Sam noticed a light behind them.
“Look Captain, we’re being followed!” he said.
“What?” squawked Comet in a panic, fumbling for a telescope. “Is it the Thangaloids? Is it Black-Hole Beard?”
“No, it’s the trawler we helped before,” said Sam, “and they’re flashing lights at us.”
Comet peered through his telescope.
“Aha, it’s Bortz Code,” said Comet, “the interstellar language of space travellers. Each flash means something different. Every pirate worth his spacesalt knows Bortz Code. Now what are they saying? ‘Custard for the rose bush. Toothbrush in a bucket. Wash your pants on a Tuesday.’ What in the name of Nibbles and his Jumblers are they on about?”
“Captain, a message from the trawler,” shouted Vulpus from the crow’s nest. “They’re thanking us for helping them and for showing them the way out of the nebula. Also they say if we sail directly on from the twin stars dead ahead, we’ll find the Corkscrew Galaxy.”
“Of course,” said Comet, snapping his telescope closed. “Just what I was saying. Signal back to thank them and ask if they’re joining us.”
Lights flashed between the two spaceships.
“Negative, Captain,” Vulpus shouted down eventually. “They say the crabs from the nebula are too good to miss. Besides – now they know the way out they’re not scared of the Thangaloids any more.”
“Well, wish them the best of luck, Mr Vulpus, and we’ll bid them farewell,” Comet replied.
Just then the on-deck holoscreen flashed into life. Black-Hole Beard’s angry face appeared on it. Behind him, the Thangaloid king was tightly bound and hanging over the black hole. He did not look best pleased.
“Comet, ye scurvy dog!” barked Black-Hole Beard. “Me and the king have had a little parley and we’ve agreed that I can go. He’s been very obliging and told me where you’re headed. I’m coming to get ye, Comet! And when I do…”
The image disappeared as Comet switched off the holoscreen.
“Goes on a bit, doesn’t he?” said Comet. “Sam, ask Mr Piole to set a course for the Corkscrew Galaxy. Let’s find that Planet X.”
“And my parents!” Sam added. “Aye, aye, Cap’n Comet. Aye, aye!”
Copyright
With special thanks to Paul Harrison
To Sam – the pirate who completed the crew
Space Pirates: Stranded!
First published in the UK in 2013 by Nosy Crow Ltd
The Crow’s Nest, 10a Lant Street
London SE1 1QR, UK
This ebook edition first published in 2013
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and / or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text copyright © Hothouse Fiction, 2013
Cover and interior illustration © Benji Davies, 2013
The right of Hothouse Fiction and Benji Davies to be identified as author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblence to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978 0 85763 212 8
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Chapter One
CASTAWAY AHOY!
Samson Starbuck peered at the bowl of food in front of him and wrinkled his nose. Breakfast on board the pirate spaceship Jolly Apollo was never good, but today’s looked awful. The bowl contained a thick grey liquid halfway between porridge and soup, which seemed to be both watery and lumpy at the same time. It smelled of old fish and engine oil.
As Sam stared at the bowl he was sure that something in it moved. Feeling sick, Sam pushed the bowl away from him and sat up. All around him in the mess hall, his fellow crew mates were digging into the disgusting gloop hungrily.
“How can you eat that?” Sam asked Piole, the pirate sitting next to him. “It’s revolting!”
Piole turned to look at Sam, food dribbling from three of his twelve mouths.
“The food here is always revolting,” Piole replied. “But it’s the only food we get so you may as well make the most of it. Aren’t you eating yours?”
“No, do you want it?” Sam knew the answer already – Piole would eat just about anything.
“Cheers, me hearty!” said Piole, swapping Sam’s bowl for his own empty one.
Sam felt the slap of a large tentacle on his shoulder and turned to see Barney, the ship’s cook, standing behind him. Although Barney looked fearsome – he was a gigantic, multi-tentacled Kraken – he was actually Sam’s best friend.
“Morning, Sam,” said Barney. “Finished already? You must be growing – here, have some more!”
He slopped out another ladleful of the disgusting gloop into the empty bowl before wandering off, whistling a merry space shanty to himself. Sam groaned and leaned his head on the table.
“Growing?” Romero, the huge lobster-clawed snippernaut, guffawed. “Sam could grow for a Traxonion year and he’d still be a space sprat!”
“Hey!” Sam protested as the other pirates laughed.
“Aye, aye, shipmate,” said Captain Comet, plonking himself down on the bench next to Sam.
Comet was one of the most extravagantly dressed space pirates in the Universe. He liked bright frock coats and always wore a tri-corn hat. He had eye patches covering two of his three eyes and a long waxed moustache that stuck out from each side of his face like curled wire.
Comet might look like a perfect pirate, but Sam knew he and his crew were widely regarded as the most useless space pirates in all the known galaxies – and probably the unknown galaxies as well. However, beneath all the bluster, bragging, incompetence and cowardice, Captain Comet had a heart of gold and truly cared for his crew.
Which was just as well, because Sam had joined the Jolly Apollo to try and rescue his parents, who had been space-shipwrecked on the mysterious Planet X. The pirates were only too happy to help. The planet was rumoured to be made of solid gold. And Sam had a map of how to get there!
“What’s wrong, are you space-sick?” asked Captain Comet.
Sam shook his head.
“So what is it, me hearty? It can’t be that bad!”
Sam picked up his bowl. The grey sludge shuddered and a bubble popped at the surface, releasing a smell like the inside of a bowling shoe.
“Anyhow,” Comet continued, “I thought you’d like a quick status update – we’re making good progress. We’ve passed the Corkscrew Galaxy and I think we should reach this wormhole soon.” He pointed to the scrap of spacesuit material on which Sam’s mother had drawn the map.
Sam raised his head and looked at it excitedly. They were getting closer by the minute! And they had managed not to get lost for three days now – a Jolly Apollo record.
“
Castaway ahoy! Castaway ahoy!”
The shout from the crow’s nest was loud and clear, even down in the mess hall.
“A-ha, sounds like we’ve spotted someone,” said Comet. “Some poor hapless soul, cast adrift on a barren rock with their meagre possessions. They’re lucky we’ve found them; I’ve heard of castaways going mad from loneliness, or getting so hungry they’ve been reduced to eating their own socks.”
Sam gulped as he thought about his own parents stranded on the distant Planet X. But they wouldn’t have to eat their own socks, Sam thought to himself. They’re both botanists, and they know everything there is to know about planets from all over the galaxy. They’ll definitely be able to find food, even on a barren planet that’s supposed to be made of gold. Won’t they?
Comet rose from the bench and interrupted Sam’s thoughts. “Let’s go and see who it is,” he said.
Sam trooped up to the main deck with the crew, all eager to catch a glimpse of who the lookout had spotted. In the distance they could see someone waving from a large asteroid.
“Set a course for the asteroid please, Mr Pegg and Mr Legg,” Comet called to the two-headed first mate who was steering the Jolly Apollo. Legg, the happier head, saluted sharply, while Pegg concentrated on the wheel.
The asteroid was small and round, barely big enough for a bowling lane, and piled high with suitcases. The castaway didn’t seem too upset about being stranded. Leaning against a couple of his suitcases, he calmly waved to the approaching ship as if he didn’t much care if they stopped or not. Sam frowned as he looked at him. The stowaway didn’t look like he was marooned and desperate. He was wearing a gold-coloured cape over some pretty fancy pirate clothes and had a gold peg leg.
As the Apollo pulled alongside the stranger he tossed his head, flicking his wild black hair away from his face.
“Ahoy, me hearties!” he shouted in a deep voice. “What took you so long?”
“Ahoy!” called Comet. “Stand back, I’m coming down.”
He dropped a rope ladder down to the asteroid and turned to Sam. “Rule fifty-six, paragraph three of the pirate code,” he explained. “You always pick up a castaway. Now just watch his face when he realises he’s been rescued by the famous Captain Joseph Hercules Invictus Comet!”
Sam held back a laugh. Comet rushed to put on his formal hat, the one with the extra-large feather, then perched on the side of the spaceship and gave a nonchalant salute to the crew before throwing his feet over the ship’s rails. Unfortunately his foot caught on the top rung of the rope ladder and instead of climbing down, he swung down headfirst, and ended up dangling from the ladder by his feet, swinging over the asteroid.
The stranger reached down, grabbed Comet by the scruff of the neck and hauled him to his feet.
Comet’s hat was wedged down over his head and he wobbled around the asteroid as he struggled to get it off – much to the castaway’s amusement. With one last mighty heave the hat flew off and Comet fell on his backside. The captain sat there blinking his one good eye in befuddlement. The stranger stared with a wry smile at the three-eyed pirate.
“There you go, Patches! Right way up again,” said the stranger.
“Ah, erm, thank you,” Comet replied, looking a bit flustered. He took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. “I’m Captain Com—”
“Be a good fellow,” the stranger interrupted, “and grab those bags for me, will you? Getting up the ship’s ladder is going to be a struggle with this.”
He motioned to his golden peg leg, then gave Comet a wink and a pat on the cheek. “Make way, boys!” the stranger called up to the Apollo. “I’m coming aboard!”
