Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture

by Christine Westhead

  Starfire and the Space Dragons

  Copyright © 2017 Christine Westhead

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Email:easypeasybooks@aol.com

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

  Cover Illustration by Reimund Bertrams

  Bertrams@das-wortgewand.de

  For Paul Westhead

  Much more than a nephew

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Major Erion Dubois, late of the Aurian Space Marines, stared at the two Terrellians as they stood in each other’s arms. Captain Raan, also late of the Aurian Marines, looked from Erion to the Terrellians and back again.

  "What do you mean, 'we have to go back to Serrell'?" Erion asked the Terrellian man. His name was Hal and he was the gunnery officer of their ship, the Grennig. He was tall and lean, and dressed completely in black, which made his colouring look even more pale to Erion. His fair hair, which was slightly curly at the ends, was rumpled on one side as if he had been lying on it and framed a hard, handsome face, with steel grey eyes. Those hard, grey eyes were focused on something they couldn't see and Captain Raan walked into the tiny bedroom of their quarters to follow their line of sight.

  "There's nothing there, man." Raan looked back at Erion Dubois, his amber eyes full of concern. He and Erion were Aurians, the amber eyed, honey skinned, copper haired race that dominated the Aurian system and most of the remaining galaxy. Raan's hair curled over his collar and was much longer than regulations would have allowed, had he still been in the Aurian Marines. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, glanced at Erion and shrugged, helplessly. Hal looked toward him briefly, then went back to staring at the wall.

  "Del, what do you think?" asked Erion, looking at the android, Delta Ten, who appeared at her side. He had typical Aurian colouring and had a handsome face with finely chiselled features. He had been given to Erion by her father and since his time with the group, had been picking up human mannerisms and characteristics. Erion had made him a free machine, and to anyone who didn't know, he looked and acted like a handsome Aurian man.

  "It appears to be some sort of seizure, Major," he began quietly, "however without the means of proper diagnosis, I cannot be sure. I will need to examine them both."

  "Let's try Starfire," suggested Erion. Lieutenant Tehr Starfire was their pilot, also Terrellian, and had hazel eyes and brown hair. All they could see was the back of her, as her face was buried in Hal's chest. Starfire usually kept her hair in a curly, chin length bob and Hal's left hand was buried in it as he held her head against his chest. Her fingers clutched at his black shirt and her body language suggested abject terror.

  "Lieutenant?" Raan put out his hand to touch her and then stepped hurriedly back as Hal's pistol appeared in his right hand as if by magic and drew a bead straight at Raan's heart without looking at him. "Whoa, there man, it's me!"

  Erion watched the little tableau and wondered what to do. She could map out and execute a battle in space and command a troop of Marines with ease, but she felt out of her depth when dealing with actual people on a one-to-one basis. Command came naturally to her; she was what was called a ‘high born’ and came from a wealthy, powerful family, used to giving orders and expecting them to be obeyed. She had large, wide, amber eyes, a slender nose and a mouth that looked ready to smile. Her thick, dark copper hair was cut into a wedge with a fringe that ended in a point just over her nose. It all combined to make striking features that some would call beautiful, but her proud demeanour and aristocratic manner usually pushed itself to the front in any first impression and hid the warm, generous nature underneath. She fingered her Marine issue blaster and surreptitiously slid the tab to ‘stun’. She would have to be extremely careful if she chose that course to follow. Hal was incredibly gifted in the handling of his laser bolt gun and it was already out and pointing at Raan.

  No it wasn’t. The bore looked very large when it was pointed at your head, as Erion suddenly realised. She stared down the barrel, slowly moved her hand away from her gun and kept very still.

  Hal suddenly relaxed and his eyes lost their faraway stare. "Raan?" he muttered. He holstered the big blaster and moved his hand from Starfire’s hair. Her fingers slowly relaxed their grip on his shirt and she stepped away from Hal, looking a bit uncomfortable and embarrassed.

  "Are you back with us Star?" asked Raan, worriedly. She didn't speak but nodded.

  "Come and sit down, both of you," Erion motioned to one of the two seater couches in their quarters and they sat side by side, looking slightly dazed and confused. "Coffee please, Del," she said, and the android walked straight to the food replicator without comment and returned carrying a small tray with cups of the hot, steaming brew.

  "What the frag was all that about?" asked Raan, "I was just building up to a seven card flush there, and all hell broke loose."

  "Serrell," began Starfire, suddenly, "they're in terrible danger."

  "The Serrellians?" asked Erion. Fate had thrown them all together on that Planet and as far as Erion could remember, there were no native Serrellians.

  "No, the Trenee."

  "Star!" snapped Hal. She bit her lip and looked down. Erion and Raan shared a look.

  "Hal?" asked Erion. He shrugged.

  "I can't remember," he said, flatly. When Hal used that tone there was no arguing with him.

  "What's going on here?" Erion looked at them both. "Does this have anything to do with what happened to you on Serrell?" They had been separated, but Erion assumed they had been captives of the natives for all that time. Then again, she thought to herself, their ship had magically repaired itself and moved three hundred miles to be near them. Starfire had said it was dragons and she and Raan had laughed at her.

  "Is it dragons?"

  "No of course not," Starfire started to speak, thought better of it and tailed off.

  "We need to take some leave," said Hal. He stood up and went into the tiny room, enthusiastically called a bedroom by the Cantina, and started to put spare clothes into a carryall. Starfire looked as though she was going to say something, then followed him.

  "You can't just take off like this," the hot tempered Captain Raan stood in the doorway, angry and baffled.

  "We've just come back from some leave," pointed out Erion. "Gant probably won't let you have any more."

  "Then I'll quit," said Hal, softly. He pushed past Raan and stood by the door to wait for Starfire.

  "Leave the Alliance?" Erion was aghast. "But you’ve only just joined. You can't! We need you."

  "Watch me," he snarled.

  "We'll be back soon, Raan," Starfire walked into the sitting room, carrying a similar carryall. She was dressed in a battered khaki, all-in-one flying suit and standa
rd, Space Marine issue lace-up boots. The unreadable insignia on her left breast had once said ‘Lt. Starfire. Pt 5’, and had almost disappeared. If you didn’t know it was there, you wouldn’t have seen it, but every time Starfire put her hand over the tab to pull it off, something stilled her hand. Her Marine bomber jacket was draped over the bag and she placed it on the floor by her feet. Hal, as usual, was dressed in black jeans and a black shirt with the open cuffs turned back to leave his wrists free. A black, leather gunbelt with a heavy, silver buckle was around his waist, carrying a steel laser bolt hand gun in a contoured holster, tied to his right thigh.

  "Can't you tell us where you're going?" asked Erion.

  "You're going to Serrell, aren't you?" muttered Raan.

  "We can't tell you," said Starfire. She still looked pale. "We gave our word."

  "But…"

  "Leave it, Raan," said Hal, coldly. The two men weren't friends, coming as they did from very different worlds. Captain Neall Raan had been a career soldier in the Aurian Space Marines, haphazardly making his happy way up the promotional ladder until he found a rank that suited him. He had been forced to desert, along with Erion and Starfire, when the New Aurian Federation took over most of the system a year ago. Career officers all, they didn't have many other options and had gravitated to the Rebel Alliance to try and overthrow the corrupt administration. Life for Captain Raan carried on pretty much the same as it did before, but with far less pay, much more excitement and without the strict rules that had previously reined him in.

  Hal, like Starfire, was a native of the planet Terrell. The little Terrellian system was in the farthest reaches of the galaxy and consisted of one yellow sun and two planets, Terrell, and its sister planet, Serrell. The space shy Terrellians lived underground, their towns and cities connected by tunnels and they never ventured out on to the surface. Shunning space travel, they had reluctantly allowed a Marine base in their upper levels as their limited resources had all but dwindled away and they needed to trade to survive. The rest of the races treated them with scorn or contempt and they were usually short changed in most dealings. Off world Terrellians like Hal and Starfire were rare and had a rough time of things as a result.

  With so many people crammed in its levels, the Terrellian way of life had to be ordered and strict. The young loner Hal didn't see why he had to conform, and despite many efforts of local child services and law enforcement, he escaped the rehabilitation unit and stowed away on the shuttle of Erion's father, Colonel Dubois. The Major, as he was then, took pity on the rebellious teenager and dropped him off at a mining planet, where he got a job as a bookie's runner until he could afford to buy his first gun.

  "I thought we were all in this together," said Erion, desperately. Of the three of them, she was having the most difficulty coming to terms with leaving the Marines. Erion was a career Marine. It was all she ever wanted to be and she had mapped out her career like a flow chart. Now, wrongly branded a traitor, that way of life had been taken away and she was desperately trying to find a little niche for herself.

  "We'll be back, Major," Starfire looked up at Hal, a little unsure.

  "You don't have to come, Lieutenant," he said, softly.

  "Gave my word, Hal," she smiled, grimly. "Let's do this." He nodded and they both left the room.

  "What the hell just happened?" said Raan. He lifted his arms from his sides in exasperation as the door slid shut behind them.

  "I don't know, Captain," snapped Erion, "but I aim to find out. Come on!"

  "How are going to get to Serrell?" asked Starfire. "We can't use the Grennig. Anyway, I can't fly her all that way on my own." She looked up at the tall, laconic gunman, who threw her a quick grin and she remembered that he could, and had flown their ship with her. He could probably fly as well as Raan, her co-pilot. They had reached the end of the hall and called for an aircar. The light above the door changed to green and they entered the little globe and sat facing each other. Aircars were the standard form of people transport throughout the galaxy and consisted of a spherical shuttle that zoomed up, down and across, along a complicated maze of tunnels. The aircar door opened into the Cantina itself, outlaw haunt and gateway to the Rebel Alliance.

  It could have been a classy joint in any part of the system with mahogany wall panels, gilt fixtures and a dance floor, surrounded by a carpeted area dotted with dining tables. A trio played gentle jazz in one corner and the air was gently perfumed with fruity vapour from all the cigarillos. Hal and Starfire walked across the floor to the long bar that ran down one side of the large room. Orlando, the old bartender, came to serve them and saw their bags.

  "Leaving us then, son?" he grinned at Hal.

  "Need to see Thirty Seven and Elkrist," he answered, leaning both elbows on the bar. His steel grey eyes scanned the room behind him through the mirror automatically, even though Starfire had turned to face the other way.

  "Sure, Hal," Orlando pressed a button on his bar and it was answered almost immediately. "Go right in," he said, motioning with his head to the large, mahogany door at the end of the bar. It had a green light above it, but as Hal and Starfire went through the door, the light changed to red.

  Thirty Seven sat behind his large, oak desk and rose to his feet as they entered. He was unmistakably a robot, at least seven feet tall, with a black metal body, a round grill for a mouth, and glowing orange eyes.

  "Please sit, he commanded, motioning to a sofa that leaned against the wall opposite the desk. His voice was warm and gentle and his eyes glowed a deeper orange as he spoke. He was part owner of the Cantina and unofficial Mayor of the Cantina Complex, buried deep inside the planetoid. "Would you like refreshments?" They both shook their heads and Hal said,

  "Is Elkrist around?" Thirty Seven passed a black hand over a square black crystal inset into his desk.

  "She will be here, shortly." Thirty Seven put his big head on one side as he caught sight of the two carryalls at their feet. "I sense that you are both troubled," he said gently.

  "We'll wait for Elkrist," said Hal. They sat in silence for a while, then Elkrist walked into the room. She was from the Planet Valasia, a tall, muscular dark skinned beauty. Silver hair fell past her shoulders and down her back in thick waves, almost to her waist and tribal metal jewellery graced her wrists and upper arms. She smiled warmly at Hal, showing white, even teeth. She was co-owner of the Cantina with Thirty Seven and ran it with an iron hand. She was also second in command of the Rebel Alliance and her smile melted away when she caught sight of the bags on the floor.

  "We got to go away for a few days," said Hal. It didn't sound like a request and Elkrist raised a questioning eyebrow.

  "We thought you should know," added Starfire. Elkrist's eyebrow raised further. Hal had not been officially with the Alliance for long, although he had been on missions for them on a job by job basis on a few occasions. He didn’t take orders that well, but he and Erion had come to an understanding that if she didn’t order him to do anything he didn’t want to, he wouldn’t disobey her. Elkrist was surprised he had gone this long without coming off the rails.

  "You have just come back from a week's leave, Hal," said Elkrist.

  "Oh, come off it, El," snapped Hal, "You know that wasn't leave. We damn near didn't make it back."

  "Even so," began Elkrist, but Hal stopped her words.

  "We're going." He stood up, picked up his bag and slung it over one lean shoulder. “You coming?” he said softly to Starfire.

  "Wait!" commanded Thirty Seven. "How can we contact you? Where are you going?" Hal had already reached the door and glared at it as if it stayed shut just to spite him.

  "We can't say," began Starfire. "We promised."

  "This is most unusual," said Thirty Seven. "What about Major Dubois and Captain Raan?"

  "They don't know anything about this either, and they're just as angry as you," Starfire smiled, apologetically. "We have to go, Thirty Seven. It really is a matter of life and death."

  "Is
it an Alliance matter?" asked Elkrist.

  "We don't know yet," said Starfire.

  “If this is not an Alliance matter, I cannot permit this without consulting Gant,” Elkrist referred to the leader of the Rebel Alliance. She looked at Thirty Seven, who shrugged his black metal shoulders in a strangely human gesture.

  "Then we quit,” said Hal.

  “Starfire, can you not tell us what is going on?” asked Elkrist, worriedly. The crew of the Grennig was their most successful team and she could see it disintegrating before her eyes.

  “Thirty Seven, open the damn door before I blast it open myself," said a tight lipped Hal from across the room. The black robot flicked another metal digit over his desk and the door slid silently open. Starfire followed Hal as he stalked out of Thirty Seven's office.

  "You didn't answer my question," began Starfire as they headed for an aircar hatch. "How are we going to get there?"

  "All sorted," muttered Hal. "We just gotta wait for a couple of hours or so and our ride will be here."

  "Oh, goody," said Starfire, sarcastically. "Saves me worrying then." They took another short aircar ride to the hub and walked to the main, circular desk to check out.

  The hub was laid out like every other Starport in the system. The outside was ringed with shops, food outlets, banks and beauty parlours. There were aircar doors set around the large room leading to hotels, theatres and gymnasiums. The centre area was full of tables and Hal walked to one at the back of the room, dragged it noisily to the edge and sat down with his back to the wall. Starfire slid into the seat next to him and ordered two coffees from the menu built into the table.

  They sat in silence, both desperate to sleep but staying awake on adrenalin and coffee.

  "Here," Hal passed Starfire a black cigarillo. He dialled the ring around the filter to copper and lit it as she placed it to her lips. Starfire took a drag, inhaled the bitter, cherry flavoured vapour and blew it out with a sigh. Copper meant a strong stimulant. She didn't know about Hal but she had been partying for the last twenty four hours and everything around her felt a little bit far away.