Book four in the Bounty Hunter series.
2393 AD - After crash-landing on a seemingly deserted planet, two top-class bounty hunters discover an underground community of scientists. What are they hiding from? And why are the males grotesquely deformed?
It was well and truly jammed all right.
Panman, a bounty hunter of impenetrable acumen and potent concentration, stood heroically on the topside of the Blenheim and surveyed the scene. The ship was wedged tightly in a fifty metre wide hard-rock crevasse, a crevasse only half the width of the ship itself, and it was damaged beyond reason. Torn armour plating and buckled weaponry could be seen crunched up against the grey lichen covered rock face. Contorted hull fragments jabbed at the air, and black smoke billowed from the huge sub-space engines at the rear. The stench of collision, similar to the odour of a dam crawling gum chewer, wafted through the air.
Panman smiled. That must have been the most extraordinary and magnificent crash ever! A shame it wasn’t recorded.
Peter the Ace, a bounty hunter of multifarious subterfuge and sturdy construction, clambered out of the bridge’s emergency exit hatch and joined his companion out on the hull. A chill gust of wind ruffled his un-gelled hair.
“What’s the verdict, Ace?” Panman asked; his heavily gelled hair unaffected by the rush of air.
“Well, the weapons array has been almost wiped out - apart from the lower pulse cannon, that still seems to respond. All shield capability has been lost, and the sub-space drive diagnostics can’t get a response from the engines. It looks like the Inanuim fuel injector has snapped.”
“Is that serious?”
“We need to find a new one or else we can’t leave.”
“Unlikely on this backwards world.”
“It is indeed. The complex alloy that it’s made from is deviously constructed.”
Peter the Ace thought for a second. “The microwave doesn’t close properly, and I can’t turn off the vibrating bed in the guest quarters. The jaccuzzi works, though.”
“It’s not all bad then.”