Paradise 21: Space Pirates with a Chip on Their ShoulderWhat if the world was ending, and you didn’t make it onto a colony ship?
The space pirates in Paradise 21 are the humans who have been left behind. Deemed “unfit” by genetic tests, or too poor to have any connections to make it aboard, they were doomed to scratch out a living in the ruin after wars, radiation, and zombies (which you’ll find out about in the prequel: A Hero Rising) decimated old Earth.One leader emerged, James Wilfred, and he stole an unfinished colony ship to transport the people left behind on Earth to Alpha Omega, the largest operating space station meant to keep in contact with the colony ships.
Striker, the hero in Paradise 21, is directly related to James Wilfred, and all I can say is that he follows in his father’s footsteps.
Read Paradise 21 to see exactly how…
My question to you is:What would you do if you didn’t make it onto a colony ship?
“Gerald, I trust you’re doing well with your new bride. How long’s it been? A month?”
“Seems like five years to me.” He chuckled, but darkness tinged the corners of his eyes. “How can computers be wrong, eh?” He downed his glass of champagne in one desperate gulp. “You have your own ceremony coming up soon, right?”
“Yes, I do.” Barliss stifled his excitement, straightening his collar so his gold lapel pin caught just the right amount of light, and the New Dawn’s insignia of a seventeenth-century ship cutting through water rested above his right bicep.
“How you ever got paired with such a beauty…” Gerald trailed off as his own designated life partner came up and clutched his arm.
Barliss sized her up. Thick makeup covered her ruddy complexion, but nothing could cure her limp brown hair and bony nose. No matter how she stuffed the dress, the front would never be filled out in the right places. Not well enough for Barliss’ taste, anyway. Her beady eyes always had reminded him of the bats in the loading bay.
“Lieutenant Barliss, you look stellar today.”
Barliss’ eyebrows rose, questioning her appraisal. He made it a point to look stellar every day. He didn’t spend fifteen hours a week weight training for fun and games. “So do you, Tilda, my dear,” he lied, playing the game.
She giggled and squeezed Gerald’s arm.
Gerald winced as if she’d grasped him too tightly. Tilda waved to someone in the crowd and placed a wet kiss on her husband’s cheek, smearing her lipstick before slinking away. Gerald gave her a little wave and turned back to Barliss. “Like I said, you’re the lucky one.”