Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture

by Christine Westhead

  “Grandfather, may I?”

  “If you are not going to be in the way….”

  “She won’t be, Professor,” smiled Raan.

  “I’ll be good, I promise.”

  “Very well, dear but be good and do not distract anyone with your questions.” She rushed off with Raan and Erion caught the professor’s eye.

  “Your granddaughter…” she began.

  “She is very innocent,” began Professor Lear. “I have protected her too much, I fear.”

  “Raan will look after her,” said Erion.

  “I am hoping so, Major,” he answered, slowly, “yes I am hoping so.”

  Chapter 3

  “Next stop, Epsoid Three,” said Tranter. He was at the controls of the spaceship Josie and Starfire sat at his left, in the co-pilot seat. It was a lot quieter this time around because Bob and Dave had put the sound proof cladding back on and balanced the engines. They still had to climb up four ladders to get to the pilot section but there was a mug of hot coffee waiting for them because Al had reprogrammed the food replicators with something more palatable for humans.

  “How long till we get there?” asked Hal. He was still sitting at the unfinished gunnery post but somebody, Hal guessed it was one of the Citizens, had cleaned it up a bit.

  “Couple of hours in hyper is all,” answered Tranter. “Yeah!” he slid his seat back. “As soon as I sell this baby, I’ll be pretty much debt free.”

  “That’s good Tranter,” said Starfire. Tranter’s base, along with his fleet of donor wrecks had been destroyed by the Federation. He had started again from scratch, hidden deep in the asteroids this time. They sat in companionable silence for a while, then Tranter said, wistfully,

  “I sure miss the Rebel, though. What a ship!” He took a drag of his black cigarillo. “Oh, Hal, I almost forgot; Mike sent your names over. You’re Vin Laddil and you’re Kitty Maine. Residents of Steel City.”

  “Kitty!” snapped Starfire. “What kind of a name is that?”

  “It’s the name on the pass Lieutenant,” said Tranter. “I think it’s kind of cute!”

  “It’s another bimbo name,” she muttered to herself.

  They eventually slid to a halt and after twenty minutes or so and Hal looked up from the gunnery console. “Ship approaching. It’s the Constellation.”

  “Ahoy there, is that the Josie?”

  “Sure is, Mike. Dock at the forward starboard hatch. The others ain’t that airtight.” Tranter deliberately avoided looking at Starfire. It was a stunning, long range, luxury launch, all steel and gold. It was half jet, half space ship and Starfire recognised some of its design features.

  “It’s one of yours, isn’t it?” she asked Tranter. He grinned,

  “Yeah. I can’t take all of the credit though, it was a pretty ship when Mike bought it. I just sooped her up a bit, gave her light engines and stuff.”

  “That’s the latest star drive if I’m not mistaken,” Starfire leaned forward to get a better view.

  “Get your stuff together, Lieutenant,” said Hal. There was a slight bump as the ship’s hatches mated up. “Our lift has arrived.”

  “See you on the other side,” grinned Tranter as Starfire hugged him. He nodded to Hal and the two of them left. The difference in the décor of the yacht couldn’t have been more marked. Even the short walk from the aircar to the crew compartment had a lush, deep blue carpet. They walked into the main lounge and Mike was waiting to meet them, hand outstretched.

  “Kitty,” Hal pointed in her direction, “Meet Micah Jones.”

  “Fraggin’ hell,” muttered Starfire, “Micah Jones, the best balladeer in the galaxy.”

  “Micah Jones, at your service, My Lady,” he bowed low. He was from the planet Valasia, a big, barrel chested man with a thick neck. His hair was black, tightly curled and his skin was very dark, making his perfect teeth look incredibly white. His voice was deep and velvety rich and it would have been impossible for him to speak quietly. “Call me Mike.” He wore maroon trousers, a long, white kaftan and a three quarter length maroon jacket, embroidered with gold swirls. He motioned two Aurian’s forward.

  “May I present Meg and Toola? Meg is my Tour Secretary and Toola is my Pilot and Road Manager. I trust them with my life.” Meg was a short, curvy Aurian of perhaps twenty eight or thirty and grasped hold of Micah Jones’ arm as if she owned him. If you were to describe her in one word it would be ‘bubbly’. She wore a silky, skimpy, low cut dress that was slit up the side to show a lot of thigh and gold coloured sling back sandals with a five inch heel. She smiled at Starfire and Hal and waved excitedly, like a child.

  Micah handed them their identicards and they inspected them, closely.

  “Pretty good,” said Starfire.

  “They should be better than good,” said Hal. Starfire handed her card to Hal, who took it and nodded.

  “How did they do it?” she asked. The holographic image on the intenticard was an exact replica of her. “No, on second thoughts I don’t want to know.” Starfire looked around the launch.

  “This is some ship,” she said, looking around it in wonder. She felt a little unworthy in her khaki flying suit and lace up boots. The yacht was laid out like a flying hotel suite. It was richly carpeted in blue and gold and the furnishings had a nautical flavour. There was much polished wood everywhere and brass portholes ran around the room, which was the whole width of the ship.

  “I like my comfort, Kitty and I can afford it. Please, sit down and relax. I promise you Toola is an excellent pilot. He has not crashed yet.” The young, Aurian man at the controls turned around in his seat, threw her a jaunty salute and grinned. “Come, beautiful people,” boomed Micah, “and tell me what you wish of me.” He patted the plush blue couch that ran half way around the room on either side of him. Hal and Starfire dutifully sat and accepted a cold drink in a tall glass from Meg. She sat beside Hal and a lap seat belt slid around her waist.

  “Preparing for light speed,” said Toola, calmly, “seat belts, please.” Starfire looked at the couch and flicked a hand over an upholstered, blue button. A similar belt slid around her waist and she leaned past Micah’s large frame to see that Hal had done the same. The view from the front suddenly whirled into a blur and their stomachs churned over as the Constellation shot forth into hyperspace.

  “Well, that is us for the next seven hours,” said Micah Jones. “Now, why is it so important that you get inside the Marine base on Terrell?”

  “Can’t tell you that, Mike,” said Hal, “only that it’s important.” Hal needed to get to one of the Marine computers at the base on Terrell and Starfire had been stationed there so she knew her way around. They had stolen the computer access codes on a previous mission and Hal hoped they hadn’t been changed. The Federation had no idea anything had been taken when they destroyed the Castillon complex, so there was no earthly reason why they should have been, and hopefully, all the information about any proposed changes for Serrell would be available to him. He didn’t want Micah Jones to know any of this, so that if he was asked, he could honestly say he had no idea what they were doing

  “Is it Alliance business?”

  “Nope, not really.” When Hal used that tone of voice, he made it clear that the conversation was over. Micah Jones beamed suddenly and turned to Starfire as if the change in topic was his idea.

  “And where in Terrell do you wish to go, my dear?”

  “The Aurian Marine Base if possible,” she answered. “Anywhere you’re performing would be good. If I can get onto the base, I can get us where we need to go.”

  “Well, first you need to get changed out of those scummie clothes,” said Meg. Starfire leaned forward and opened her mouth to swear an insult, but Hal cut her off with a brisk,

  “Kitty!”

  “No offence, honey,” giggled Meg, digging a bigger grave for herself. “What I meant is that you’re really pretty with that pale face and green eyes. I mean, eyes that are green! Is that why they cal
l you Kitty? They’re like a cat’s eyes. Ain’t they just gorgeous Mike?”

  “Not green; hazel,” gritted Starfire.

  “And your hair,” Meg sailed gaily on into stormy seas without an engine or anchor. “It’s the same colour as a dog.”

  “Right, that’s it,” Starfire stood up and glared at the woman. “You can cut the act.”

  “What do you mean, sweetie?” Meg still wore the same, wide eyed smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.”

  “This drippy, floozy act,” said Starfire. “It doesn’t fit in here.” Meg suddenly laughed and kicked off the high heeled shoes. It wasn’t the same, inane giggle as before but a laugh of genuine humour.

  “I apologise, Kitty, but I had to prove something to myself.”

  “Eh?” Starfire looked baffled and it was left to Hal to explain.

  “I reckon Meg is hired protection; a gunman.”

  “A gunman?” said Starfire. She caught Hal’s eye.

  “I reckon,” said Hal. Meg and Hal sized each other up, one professional to another.

  “Megan Carter, ex-Marine Special Forces,” she put her hand out to Starfire, Terrellian style and she shook it, briefly.

  “Kitty Maine.” She motioned to Hal with her head. “He’s just Vin Laddil; nothing special about him at all.” Hal threw her a sarcastic sneer.

  “I was right,” Micah Jones’ rich laugh echoed around the yacht. “I am sorry for the little test, Kitty, but you would be surprised what people will do when you are as famous as me. I didn’t think Vin would bring an idiot fan to my ship but I had to be sure.”

  “Not one word!” Starfire pointed at Hal.

  “Now,” beamed Micah, “proper introductions. He held out his hand to Meg, “Meg is my bodyguard as well as my secretary. I don’t know what we would do without her. And this,” he put out a hand to Toola, who had walked over from the pilot section, “is my husband, Toola.”

  “Welcome to our home,” the young man grinned. He saw Starfire looking over at the pilot section. “We have the finest autopilot money can buy. The Constellation is a safe ship.”

  “Oh I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said Starfire, quickly.

  “We’ll take her out for a spin when your mission is over if you like,” he smiled, “you could sit in the pilot seat and pretend to fly her yourself.”

  “Gosh, thanks, Toola, that would be great!”

  “You will have to get changed, though,” Meg looked Starfire up and down. “You too, Vin.” Starfire pointed to the dark green overalls on the couch.

  “We came prepared for that.” Money was tight on Terrell and its inhabitants took work where they could get it. It was a strict society and there was enough to go around, but not usually enough to buy the little extras that rich folk had. The arrival of the Aurian base in its upper levels had caused demonstrations, outrage and had been cursed by all inhabitants, who then secretly queued up for the ancillary jobs that came with it. Competition was fierce, but Hal had managed to secure them both cleaning jobs for the evening.

  “This is Steel City Starport requesting your ident,” a bored sounding voice came over the com.

  “This is Galactic Launch, the Constellation requesting permission to land,” answered Toola.

  “Welcome, Constellation, please land on pad six. I am sending you the co-ordinates now.”

  “Co-ordinates received, Port.” Toola brought the graceful ship in to land and the Starport buildings gradually came view as they lowered. It wasn’t a pretty Starport. There weren’t any gardens, trees or sparkling, glass windows. This had been hastily erected using grey, modular buildings that slotted together by the Aurian Marines a couple of years previously. It was to have been a temporary construction, until the actual Starport could be built, but stubbornness on the parts of the Terrellian Ruling Senate and the Marine High Command had resulted in complete stalemate.

  Micah, Toola and Meg were ushered through to their hotel suite with all the speed and comfort reserved for first class passengers who were rich and famous as well, and it wasn’t long before their luggage was delivered by a porter pulling a hover trolley. Toola paid the porter and as soon as the doors were closed, Hal and Starfire were extracted from their respective large cases.

  “Did you check for bugs?” asked Hal. Outside in the city, there were far too many people for any listening device to pick anything up. In a fancy hotel room though, there was always the chance of blackmail.

  “Sure, the place is clean,” answered Meg, suspiciously. She hadn’t been told anything about Hal and Starfire, except that Hal was an old and trusted friend of Mike’s, but there was something unnerving about the Terrellian man in the way he exuded complete and utter confidence in himself. She had only met one other man who had the same qualities and that was her old commander. She didn’t think this Terrellian was a leader of men. He was the exact opposite; a loner, and she marked his card as ‘loose cannon’. She was now dressed in a plain suit of grey and white, although she still wore high heeled, grey shoes to match her outfit.

  “Where are we?” asked Starfire. Toola handed her a complimentary flexi from the hotel room bar. It was a paper thin, throw away computer tablet with a holographic picture of the hotel on the front. She turned it over to reveal a stylised map of Steel and passed it to Hal, who nodded, quickly.

  “What time is this concert of yours?”

  “Micah Jones does not do concerts,” said Toola, lifting his head, proudly. “Micah Jones delivers an Experience.”

  “Yeah, what time is this experience then?” said Hal, clearly underwhelmed.

  “It’s at eight thirty tonight, Vin,” said Meg. She walked over to study the flexi with him. “It’s seven thirty now and the concert is for ninety minutes. That gives you no more than two and a half hours to do your stuff and get to the back of the stage tonight.”

  “Sure,” Hal nodded. “We better get ready.”

  “All set?” Meg looked Hal and Starfire over with a professional eye. Their dark green, one piece coveralls had been weathered a bit so that they did not look brand new and they both wore peaked caps with the City’s logo on it.

  “We have to meet my contact on level ten in thirty minutes,” said Hal. He checked his pocket for a pre-loaded cash card and zipped it up with his identicard.

  “How much is on these?” Starfire studied her identicard. Along with all her supposedly personal details, it would have been loaded with credits.

  “Around thirty,” answered Hal. It was enough for most eventualities, but not too much that it would arouse suspicion if they were stopped by the Galactic Police.

  “Be safe, my children,” boomed Micah.

  “You have the details of the concert,” said Meg. It was more of a statement than a question. “I’ll be backstage all night, looking for you.”

  “We’ll be there,” said Starfire.

  “Right, said Hal,” looking at the little screen on the back of the door, “the corridor’s empty. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 4

  The Grennig sat on a large landing pad on the surface of the little planetoid. It was a dark grey vessel, with two huge ion engines at the back, under an aileron with a centre fin. The nose tapered down to a long prow and gave the ship a lean, graceful look. It had swept back wings so that it could fly in the atmosphere or underwater and looked like an average class five corvette. Tranter had replaced the guns and the engines and had covered the seams in lines of old, brass rivets, which made it look much older and slower than it actually was.

  Captain Raan went through his pre-flight checks, conscious that Adrianna was watching him. She sat in the co-pilot seat, normally reserved for him, but he wasn’t the co-pilot today. He was a competent pilot, but he was a soldier by profession, more used to being on the ground, and he missed Starfire by his side. Perhaps she was right, he thought to himself. Maybe when they were all together they were stronger somehow. He dismissed the thought as soon as Delta Ten, who was acting co-pilot for the day, bro
ke into his thoughts.

  “Main engines ready, Captain.”

  “Main engines start, Del.” There was a dull throb behind them, which was felt rather then heard. “Lift thrusters at my command,”

  “Lift thrusters, aye, Captain.” The Grennig lifted elegantly off the pad and waited for a Little Rock to guide it through the asteroids.

  “We are now in hyperspace, Captain. Light point two.”

  “Thanks, Del.” Raan slid his seat back and stood up. Would you like a tour of the ship?”

  “Yes please, Captain.” Adrianna, eyes like saucers, followed Raan to the aircar and sat next to him. “We don’t have an aircar where I live,” she said, shyly.

  “This is a big ship,” he said, trying not to stare into her huge, amber eyes. “We can access pretty much everywhere from here.”

  “Then I would like to see everywhere,” she held his hand and looked at him. Raan didn’t have perfect, symmetrical features like Delta Ten. He had a lithe body, a boyish, handsome face with laughing eyes, a brilliant smile and an easy going manner. It all contributed to make a fine looking man who had no trouble attracting girls like iron filings to a magnet. Raan had always tried to enjoy life to the full. He was young, healthy and good looking, and in a career where the women he met were usually young, healthy and good looking as well. Life as a Captain in the Space Marines had never been dull and he experienced his many brief love affairs where he found them, said goodbye and went on his merry way.

  He did have of code of sorts where his dealings with the opposite sex was concerned and something inside was telling him that Adrianna was far too innocent to understand the complexities and un-written rules of a commitment-free romance. He decided to take her straight back to her grandfather and walk away. What actually happened was that his mouth started to move and the words,

  “What would you like to see first?” came out.

  “They went to the gymnasium and Raan programmed a hologram of a sunset on Auria. They lay on their backs and pretended they were on a beach, watching the sun go down over the ocean and looking at the stars. She tried to teach him chess, then they ended up playing draughts because he didn’t have the patience for it. He showed her the medicentre, the crew lounge, Delta Ten’s workshop and computer room. He gave her a full tour of the engine room, then they went to the crew lounge, had cocktails and toast and danced to the slow music of a Valasian band.