Second Course

Rex Curtis is trying to save his freight company from bankruptcy, and the last thing he needs is a cheeky freelancer stealing his best customers.

Hal Spacejock, cheeky freelancer, is fighting for survival in the cut-throat interstellar cargo business. The last thing he needs is a powerful enemy.

Second Course: Two headstrong men on a collision course, in a Galaxy barely room enough for one.

Sonya picked up a missile launcher and aimed it at the back of Dent's head. "Who are we invading?"

Dent spun round, slopping his coffee. "Put that down, woman! You think these are toys?"

"Range eighteen kilometres, blast radius five hundred metres ... this ain't no toy."

"You know your weapons," Dent said grudgingly.

Sonya swung the tube off her shoulder and propped it up with the rest. "What's Curtis doing with all this stuff?"

"Trade war," said Dent. "Very hush-hush. Can't discuss it."

"What do you have for me?"

Dent put his cup on the workbench and retrieved a wooden box. "I designed this myself," he said, snapping the catches open.

Sonya looked inside. "A gun?"

"No ordinary gun." Dent took the weapon out and held it up to the light, which shone right through it. "A glass gun."

"I see. And the advantage is?"

"It's invisible in water. I had a devil of a job perfecting a transparent battery, I can tell you. Here, take a - Oops!" Dent grabbed for the falling gun but it struck the edge of the desk, tumbled onto the floor and shattered. Dent swept the pieces aside with his foot. "As you can see, it's easy to dispose of the weapon in an emergency."

A beautiful and mysterious female passenger, a loony inventor with a basement full of deadly weapons, and a dangerous run-down teleporter built by a long-lost alien civilisation... these are just some of the challenges facing Hal Spacejock and his metal sidekick Clunk as they fight for survival in the cut-throat interstellar cargo business.

Featuring the incompetent Hal and the longsuffering Clunk, Second Course serves a piping hot dish of interplanetary chaos stuffed with more laughs than a cracker factory and more action than a politician's expense account.