Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture

by Christine Westhead

  She studied him out of the corner of her eye as he sat, watching the room. He lounged in the chair, his right hand resting on his thigh, not far from the butt of his gun. He unconsciously did everything, from smoking his cigarillo to drinking coffee, with his left hand and inspected everyone who came in and out of the hub automatically through half closed eyes. I'll just lean back and rest my eyes for a second as well, she thought to herself, just before she drifted off.

  "Star!"

  "Wha…" she muttered, jerking herself awake. She sat up and looked into two sparking green eyes, flecked with copper.

  "Tranter!" she blinked the sleep from her eyes and reached up to hug the slender young man. He pulled a seat to the table and sat with his back to the room. He looked very young, but he wasn’t. Happy-go-lucky most of the time, his grin made him look years younger and, like the rest of them, he owed the New Aurian Federation a death. He wore patched, blue, oil stained overalls and fur lined pilot’s boots that had seen better days. Untidy, black hair framed a handsome, smiling face, but his skin tone suggested he was neither Terrellian nor Aurian. Con Tranter was an Aurell, the son of an Aurian man and a Terrellian woman. To say it was frowned upon by most Aurians and Terrellians was distinctly an understatement, but it didn't seem to bother Tranter. Several people called friendly greetings to him as they walked through the hub and he acknowledged everyone with the same broad grin and slight lift of his hand. Tranter was a space junker and shipwright, probably the best in the galaxy, and the Rebel Alliance didn't care where he came from or who his parents were, as long as he could repair their vessels.

  "So you're our ride then?" asked Starfire, light dawning. Con Tranter was the nearest thing Hal had to a friend and he was never without a fast ship to borrow, hire or buy.

  "Yeah," the young man accepted a coffee from a robot waiter and took a sip. He lowered his voice, "Hal says you wanna go back to the homeland."

  "Want isn't quite the right word for it, Tran," said Starfire slowly, "but yes, we need to get to the Terrellian system."

  "For you Star, anything." Tranter gave her a wide smile and then looked at Hal. "We're all fuelled up and ready to go."

  "Then let's go," said Hal.

  Far away under the Planet Serrell, two minds communicated, deep underground in a large auditorium.

  "That's it; they are on their way."

  "You didn't overdo it, did you, Professor? They are only humans."

  "Oh no, sire. Just a tickle to let them know we needed to speak to them on a matter of some concern."

  "You communicated our urgency without frying their brains I take it?"

  "They are a long distance from here, Your Highness, which is why I needed everyone else."

  "Yes, well thank you, Professor; and my thanks to all of you for your help." A hundred gentle voices communicated their acknowledgement.

  "Well, Joon, all we can do now is wait.

  Chapter 2

  “Come in, Major Dubois, Captain Raan, please sit down.” Thirty Seven motioned them to the same sofa Hal and Starfire had been sitting on fifteen minutes before. Delta Ten, as usual, parked himself just inside the door. Without being asked, he went to the food dispenser and brought two coffees over.

  “I take it you are concerned for Hal and Lieutenant Starfire. At present they are in the main hub, apparently waiting for someone.”

  “Something got to them, Thirty Seven,” said Raan.

  “Starfire mentioned something about Serrell,” began Erion, “then she wouldn’t say any more.”

  “I see,” began Thirty Seven. “However, there is not much that I can do about it, as they have both resigned from the Rebel Alliance.”

  “What!” Erion looked from Raan to Thirty Seven. “What can we do? We can’t just let them go, Thirty Seven, the Alliance owes them so much.” The black, shiny robot raised his hand.

  “Fear not, Major, things are in hand. As soon as I know where they are going, you may follow in the Grennig. My internal sensors are ringing little warning bells, Major and I need to know what is going on. Elkrist has sent a message to Gant to appraise him of this situation. And yes; I do know what the Alliance owes you and your crew. Things are quiet at the moment and I can spare you all on indefinite leave. Find out what is going on, Major and report back to me. As soon as I have a destination for you, I will let you know.” He turned his large black head towards Raan. “Captain, I advise you to ready your ship. It is already being fuelled and I am sure you will want to leave as soon as possible.

  Tranter, Hal and Starfire checked out of the Cantina complex, entered the hub aircar and took the short ride to the landing pads on the surface of the planetoid. There was a quiet clang as their aircar door mated with the hatch of Tranter’s ship, the light over the door changed to green and the hatch opened. As usual, when Tranter was re-designing a ship, style gave way to content, nothing matched and the décor was unfinished.

  “Well,” he asked Starfire, spreading his arms wide, “what do you think?”

  “What’s the pack?” she asked. The aircar hatch had opened out into a small, square hall so she had no idea what the ship looked like from the outside. She wandered into the pilot section to look out of the front windscreen. It didn’t look very big, but knowing Tranter, the engines would be the only thing in top condition on the ship, and they would be fast.

  “Twin, class six, Star Drive ion thrusters,” he said proudly. “I’ve had light point six out of her and I reckon she would go faster, but the superstructure ain’t strong enough to take much more.” He sidled past her and moved some engine bits off the co-pilot seat and onto the floor. “Here,” he said, giving her a friendly shove, “sit down and have a look at the controls. I’ve converted ‘em to crystal so you should be familiar with everything.” Starfire’s practiced eye scanned everything on the half completed console in front of her. Tranter was right, this was going to be one mean ship, once it was finished. She looked out over the stubby prow. It looked like they were sitting in a class five, four berth freighter – reliable, average hyperdrive and able to transport light freight or food but who knows what it was capable of now Tranter had messed about with it.

  “You wanna get your head down, Hal?” he looked up from the pilot seat to the sardonic gunman, leaning against the wall in the hatchway. “You both look like shit! Come on, guys, I’ll show you where you can rest up.” They followed him out of the pilot section, through the hall and into the crew living quarters. It was carpeted and there were four padded couches bolted to the floor, which was about the best thing you could say about it. It looked like someone had taken an axe to the fixtures and fittings, which, in all reality, is what Tranter had probably done. There was a faint aroma of burnt metal, as if someone had been recently welding and there were burnt spatter marks and tiny globules of white metal stuck to the oatmeal carpet. They stood in the centre of the carnage. “Yeah, well, you said you wanted speed, man, and she’s the fastest thing I got. I was working on her when I got your call and came right over.”

  “It’ll do just fine, Tranter,” Starfire smiled and bagged the most comfy looking lounger. She pulled a handle and the couch dropped down flat to make a bed. “Perfect!” she proclaimed it.

  “Yeah, well, my customers usually want extra space to haul …well…you…know, specials, so I took out all the crew cabins.”

  “Specials,” grinned Starfire, “you mean contraband, don’t you?” Tranter had the good grace to look sheepish for all of a couple of seconds and ginned again.

  “I gotta make a living, Star. The Rebel Alliance don’t pay so good. You two looked bushed. Get your heads down and I’ll wake you when we get to Manta.”

  “Manta?” said Hal. He had already dropped down his lounger to make a bed and was sitting sideways on it with his carryall between his feet.

  “Yeah, got a little package for Vermillion,” he said. “She’s going to fuel us up for the rest of the trip to the Terrellian system.” Hal sighed heavily, lay down on his lounger
and placed his hands behind his head to stare the ceiling. Starfire did the same, and they both listened to Tranter as he went through his pre-flight checks. “This is the Josie, requesting passage through the asteroids.”

  “This is the Cantina Starport. Josie, you are cleared for take-off.” There was a thunderous roar from the back of the ship and Starfire almost fell off her couch. Soundproof cladding was obviously something else Tranter had removed. The whole ship started to shake and miscellaneous bits and bobs began to drift slowly across the floor with the vibration as Tranter eased the little freighter off its landing pad and out into the blackness of the asteroid field.

  “Do you see your guide, Captain Tranter?”

  “Sure do, Port,” Tranter leaned forward to see a small rock, about four feet in diameter, just off his port bow, emitting a red, blinking light. “Hey, Little Rock,” said Tranter.

  “Greetings, Con Tranter.” The light changed to green. “What is your destination?”

  “Outta here, my little friend, to the blue yonder,” Tranter lifted his slender hands over the crystal display on his console and raised them slightly. The ship followed his hand movements, rose and turned to follow the little boulder as it made its way through the asteroid field, leaving the Cantina and its clearing far behind.

  The asteroid field was huge and the main reason that the Aurian Federation had not found the Cantina. The route through the asteroids to the centre was constantly changing and only the little rocky robots could keep up with the constant movements. Only those who were allowed through could safely find their way. Tranter followed the little robot and weaved his way through the massive turning boulders until they thinned out and the darkness of space could be seen in front of him.

  “Be safe, Captain Tranter, until your return,” the voice filled the pilot section and Tranter laughed.

  “You too, little guy.”

  “Please tell Lieutenant Starfire that Little Rock Forty-One sends its regards.”

  “I’ll surely do that, Little Rock. Hey! How’d you know she was on board?” Tranter leaned forward for a better view out of the windscreen, but the boulder had reversed back into the maelstrom and disappeared. “What d’yer know?” he mused to himself. He checked his navi-computer and laid in the co-ordinates for Manta Six. He flicked a hand over a large, shining dark blue crystal that stood taller than the others and the ship shot forward into hyperspace. Tranter checked his instruments to ensure all was well, then sauntered into the crew lounge. Hal was asleep, his hands still behind his head and Starfire had turned on her side, snoring gently. Both of them had used the couch seat belts to secure themselves safely in place.

  A warning chime sounded and Starfire woke with a start. She knew that sound; it heralded their entry into normal space. She tried to sit up and fumbled with the seat belt buckle. Hal was already awake and had pressed the lever to move his couch upright. He held a mug of something steaming in his hand and Starfire yawned, stretched and smacked her lips.

  “Ah, coffee!”

  “Not exactly, Lieutenant.” Hal went to the food replicator and pressed a button. He returned with another mug for her and she took it, her smile turning into a puzzled frown.

  “What the frag is this?”

  “That, Lieutenant is Aurian Green tea,” said Tranter from the hatch. Starfire took a sip.

  “Tastes like perfumed mud,” she pulled a face.

  “Well you better get used to it, Star,” said Hal. “You got a choice of Aurian tea, Wanga Curry or Tomato soup.”

  “Oh, for frag’s sake,” she muttered. “Tranter!”

  “Yeah, well I meant to get around to it,” he muttered. “Look, it was set to Koobesics, for frag’s sake and they only eat Meego spawn. You’re lucky you got this.”

  “I know, I’m sorry Tran,” Starfire took another swig and pasted a smile across her features. “I think I’m getting used to it already.” She looked around, “Do you have any sort of Vanity on board?”

  “Course I do,” said Tranter indignantly. “What sort of Captain would I be if I couldn’t offer my crew a wash and brush up?”

  Ten minutes later, Starfire emerged from the ship’s Vanity, clean in body and clothes and helped herself to a bowl of tomato soup. It was delicious. She put the empty bowl back into the replicator and made her way into the pilot section. Hal and Tranter were in quiet conversation as she walked in.

  “We can trust her,” muttered Hal, quietly.

  “It’s a big secret,” began Tranter. “It’s not your usual itty bitty secret. This is a really, really big secret.” Hal brought out his indifferent expression.

  “What do you want me to do? Drug her and tie her up in the Vanity till we’re through?”

  “No, course not. It’s just like ….. it’s a real big secret!”

  “We’ll just forget the whole thing then, shall we?”

  “All right, you twisted my arm.”

  “Am I interrupting something?” she asked.

  “We’re just deciding,” said Tranter. He glanced back at Starfire. “Want to Co for me?”

  “Sure,” Starfire waited for Hal to move and slid into the co-pilot seat on Tranter’s left. Hal moved back to sit at a half constructed gunnery station on Tranter’s right, leaned his elbow on the console, cupped his chin on his hand and looked out of the window.

  “You know where we are?” asked Tranter.

  “Manta Six isn’t it?” said Starfire. “I recognise all the greenery.” They had visited the planet before, as a stop off on another mission. There was a small, orange sun orbited by six planets. The other five were on the opposite side of the little sun and were barely habited now all the ores had been extracted. The system was not widely travelled, which is why the Rebel Alliance liked it, and Manta Six was the furthest away from the easiest hyperspace entry point. The ship was still shuddering beneath them and Starfire glanced at the dials and screens in front of her. She caught Tranter’s eye.

  “You do know these engines are out of balance?”

  “Yeah, well I did leave in kind of a hurry and that’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  “What, your engines?” began Starfire. “I told you before, I only fly ‘em; I don’t know what makes ‘em go.”

  “It ain’t that, Lieutenant,” answered Tranter, “it’s Vermillion.”

  “Oh, your computer friend.”

  “Not exactly a computer.”

  “No?”

  “No.” Tranter looked uncomfortable “Look, you explain, Hal.”

  “Just land,” said Hal, wearily, “she can see for herself.”

  “Okay,” said Tranter softly, happy to shift the blame, “on your head be it.” Tranter and Starfire brought the ship in to land on a concrete pad in a derelict Starport. Apart from the dirty concrete buildings, everything else was green. Enormous trees with dark green, leathery leaves grew as far as the eye could see and pale green vines twisted around everything else. “This is Con Tranter in the Josie,” he began. “I got Hal here with me and Lieutenant Starfire.” There was silence.

  “Look, I know I’m only supposed to drop off the crystal and refuel, but I got engine trouble.” There was still silence.

  “Aw, come on Vermillion, it ain’t like I’ve done this on purpose. Hal was in trouble. You know he never ever asks for anything so this has got to be an emergency.” There was an even longer silence. Hal leaned forward.

  “I’ll vouch for her, Vermillion.”

  “Very well, Hal,” the strong voice that came out of the con was unmistakeably female and Starfire caught Hal’s eye. They had landed here a few weeks ago in their Corvette and she had heard the same voice. “What is wrong with your engines, Con Tranter?”

  “They’re out of balance, big time, Vermillion. “I just need a few hours. If you lend me Bob and a couple of the boys, I’ll fix it in no time.”

  “Do you have ground thrusters, Con Tranter?”

  “Er, not exactly, Vermillion,” he avoided Starfire’s gaze, “the
y don’t seem to be working so good.”

  “Very well, Tranter, stay in your ship. I will send a tow truck.”

  “Did you hear that?” Tranter’s smile reached from ear to ear, “I’m Tranter again.” Two huge cargo doors opened and a square vehicle trundled out of a loading bay. It disappeared underneath the ship’s nose and there was a slight clang as it made contact with the hull.

  “Engage your lift thrusters at five percent,” said a male voice, and Tranter flicked his hand across a few crystals. There was a low whine from somewhere behind them and the Josie lifted until she was no more than a foot off the ground. The dust cloud came up to the windows and the ship swayed slightly from side to side on the end of a tow rope. Slowly, but surely, the Josie was pulled towards the cargo bay. As soon as the ship was inside, the doors began to close and Tranter wound down the thrusters. The ship landed on the floor with a slight bump and then they were in complete darkness. Starfire frantically waved her hands over the controls.

  “Tranter, where’s the downward floods?”

  “Er….”

  “Navigation lights then. Any outside lights at all?”

  “They were working when we left,” said Tranter as if that helped. The lights were on in the pilot section, which made it pitch black outside. They could see nothing. Starfire waved her hands about in frustration.

  “For frag’s sake, Tranter, does anything work on this dog of a ship?”

  “Got you here real fast though, didn’t it?” he said, softly.

  “That’s not the point,” she snapped. Basic things like lights and ground manoeuvring thrusters were the very minimum requirement for any space-going vehicle. Starfire was Marine trained and it still rankled her to fly an illegal ship. She knew Tranter would never have put them in danger, but truth be told, she was still a little shaky about the thing in her head she couldn’t quite remember and she had now been twelve hours without coffee. She caught Tranter’s accusing stare and sighed. “I’m sorry, Tran, you’re right. I’m being ungrateful.”