Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture

by Christine Westhead

  “What?”

  “Hey Doam! Doam, it’s Marty,” he hissed. “I hit the Terrellian in the leg. He just crawled back to that truck of theirs. The other two in the back are dead. I can see ‘em through my gun sight.”

  “Doam’s gun vibrated suddenly and he looked down at the screen. It had a lock on something now and Doam scuttled forward. He cautiously approached the laundry truck and then stopped suddenly, hardly daring to breathe. The stupid bastard had made a mistake. There, pointing out of the back of the truck was the end of that damn great big blaster, but the idiot had put the sun behind him and his shadow was visible through the canvas. His back was toward Doam and it looked like he was kneeling down behind the panel and aiming across the car park towards Marty. He shoved his gun under his right armpit and raised his wrist again.

  “Marty,” he whispered, “you come towards me. Get on the other side of the truck and we’ll fire together. Get him in a cross fire.”

  Doam always fancied himself as a tracker and had often practised walking silently. It looked like his hard work was going to pay off. He gradually worked his way to the back of the truck until he was just one car away. He could see the man’s shadow clearly now. The stupid Terry had got over-confident and was in back of the truck, moving the damn great gun about, looking for a target. The gun and the hand that held it were poking out the back of the truck and were covered in blood. It looked like Marty had got lucky and wounded the Terrellian like he said. This was going to be easy. He stepped up, aimed his gun with his left hand and pressed the button on his fancy new auto aimer. A red dot appeared on the shadow’s back, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to look the bastard in the eye. He stepped to the side and said,

  “Put the gun down and your hands up, Terrellian. I got an auto aimer target on your back. It don’t matter if you move now, you bastard, the charge’ll find you. You ain’t got a chance.” He almost giggled with glee as the blood stained hand carefully put the big blaster down. He swaggered forward. “Now, put your hands…….”

  “Gotcha!” smirked Raan as he sat on the floor of the truck. His left hand still grasped the side panel and his right hand was on the floor of the truck, keeping him upright. Hal’s laser bolt gun lay on the floor in front of him where he had placed it but the young woman, the one Marty said was dead, was crouched down behind him. She had a sonic blaster in her hand and it was aimed over Raan’s shoulder at his head. He didn’t live long enough to find out where he had made his mistake. Two cars away, Marty saw Doam’s head explode like a pumpkin, then his body spun around and fell to the ground in that rag doll way that dead people do. Marty had knifed a couple of guys before and knew the signs. Besides, somebody without a head was definitely deceased. It was time for Marty to leave for pastures new. He hadn’t even taken three paces when a soft voice called out,

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Please Mister, don’t kill me,” bleated Marty. Hal stood in front of him with Raan’s blaster in his hand. It was pointing to the ground but Marty wasn’t going to take any chances. “Look,” he cried, trembling violently,” I’m putting my gun down.” He threw his pistol onto the front seat of a little red convertible hover car and stepped well back, linking his hands behind his neck. “I’m unarmed.” Hal sauntered forward and leaned in to pick up the gun from the convertible’s front seat with his left hand. He took his eyes of Marty while he searched for it and the terrified thief took his chance. He whipped his hand back behind his head, and brought it forward, holding a little laser dagger ready to throw. Hal shot him in the chest without looking up and slipped Marty’s pistol in his holster. He bent down and took the laser dagger out of Marty’s dead hand and made for the truck at a steady run. He heard the sound of sirens getting nearer and he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. He skirted Doam’s headless body and jumped into the back of the truck to see Raan, leaning back against Erion.

  “It hurts,” he said as Hal gently moved his hand aside to see the wound. “I don’t feel so good.” He looked at Hal with eyes that didn’t quite focus and he was very pale. Erion pulled Raan against her and his left arm dropped from the panel to land in his lap.

  “Stay with me, Captain,” she said urgently. “Don’t go to sleep; stay with me.” She looked worriedly up at Hal as he picked up his own gun and slid it back its holster. He put Raan’s gun and Marty’s on the floor by Erion’s hand in case she needed to use them.

  “We have to get you out of here, Captain,” said Hal as he fumbled about in Raan’s pocket. “Stay with him Major,” he added, “and keep down.” Hal jumped out of the back and pulled the ripped canvas flaps closed at the rear of the truck. He opened the driver’s door and Erion could hear him cursing as he fiddled about with Raan’s hotwiring tool and then the electric motor whined into life. Driving carefully and steadily, the laundry truck made its silent way out of the car park and passed the Galactic Police on their way in. Hal’s comlink chimed and he heard Erion’s voice.

  “Go to the flower garden.” Hal shrugged and changed course. He grinned, savagely when he saw the fancy hire car that waited nearby. Rigondal was at the controls and Raemond waited expectantly. Hal pulled up the truck and it slowed to a stop on its rubber wheels.

  “Give us hand here, Raemond,” said Hal. They both jumped in the back of the truck and the two men managed to get Raan on his feet and out of the back. His legs gave way when they touched the ground and they half carried, half dragged him to the back of the large limousine and laid him on the back seat. Rigondal had a blanket ready and they put it over his semi-conscious body.

  “Into the boot,” said Raemond, quickly, lifting the lid of the trunk. Hal and Erion crawled inside and Raemond shut the lid. The big hover car raised itself up and glided away towards the Starport. Their timing was perfect and they actually saw the Grennig come into land. There was a bit of arguing and posturing at the Starport and in the end, Rigondal had to bring out her inner spoilt, angry Princess to get permission to drive the hire car straight into the Grennig’s front hold.

  Vermillion was waiting and easily lifted the barely conscious Raan out of the back of the car. She held him like a sleeping child and ran up the circular steps to the Grennig’s medical centre above them, while everyone else followed at a slower pace and went to the crew lounge to wait.

  “Here’s a spare for you,” Hal tossed the deactivated laser knife to Starfire, who caught it and smiled. She had an identical one in a pouch at the back of her neck under her hair and this one looked quite fancy, with a little gold and bone hilt.

  They sat around the table in silence after Erion and Hal had told their tale.

  “Did you get to send your message?” asked Erion. Starfire nodded her head,

  “Yep. Must have been a bit of interference down here on the ground.”

  “Damn it, this time delay is screwing everything up!” snarled Hal. He started to pace up and down. “Another fraggin’ eight hours.”

  “It is what it is, Hal,” said Rigondal, unknowingly quoting Vermillion. He spun round, tight lipped and angry.

  “Don’t spout that shit at me!” Rigondal leaned back and took a sudden intake of breath. She looked as though she was going to burst into tears and Raemond made as if to rise. Erion waved him back down into his seat.

  “We’re all worried about Raan,” she said as Hal looked down at his blood stained hands and stalked off towards the Vanity to clean himself and his gun. After a minute or so, they all heard the faint sounds of Hal’s hand gun firing at lights in the shooting range.

  In fact they waited for just under an hour. It felt like much longer, but Delta Ten appeared as a hologram in the centre of the table and everyone looked up.

  “Captain Raan is going to live,” said Vermillion. “Nothing vital to his body was damaged, but he has lost a lot of blood.” They all made for the door, but the holographic Delta Ten put up his hand. “Captain Raan is under heavy sedation. He will not wake for at least four hours.” There were relieved smil
es all round and Starfire went to Rigondal’s side.

  “Go through that hatch and walk to the end. Take the last door on the right and tell Hal that Raan’s going to be all right.” Rigondal’s face look panicked for a moment but Starfire smiled, “trust me, he wasn’t mad at you. He feels responsible for Raan getting shot. Go tell him Captain Raan is going to pull through and maybe you’ll get to see a very rare smile.” Hal and Rigondal returned together almost immediately and everyone sat around the table in a much lighter mood.

  “Look,” said Raemond, “There isn’t much more we can do here. You know we’ll take anyone that wants to come to Katraia. We trust you won’t send us any homicidal maniacs.” He looked down at Rigondal, “We want to stay here for another couple of days. We have a private celebration of our own and I’m pretty sure things will soon be hotting up on Katraia when all the refugees arrive. I’d like us to have a few days of peace before that happens.”

  “Of course,” said Erion. “We’ll contact you before everything happens anyway. Thank you both for this.”

  “It is the least we could do, Major,” Rigondal curtseyed and Raemond bowed low. “Now we had better get this hire car back before they come looking.”

  “Will you check us out of the hotel?” asked Erion. “We haven’t left anything of value in there so I think we’ll just head off home.”

  “Of course, Major,” said Raemond. “Give Raan our regards when he wakes up, will you?”

  Chapter 13

  He looked very pale, sitting up in bed in the medical centre on the Grennig, but he managed to scrape up a smile for Erion and Starfire.

  “How do you feel?” asked Starfire.

  “Like shit, Star, but getting better.”

  “Is there anything we can do for you, Captain?” asked Erion. She raised a hand to stop his next words, “except that.”

  “I don’t think I could manage it anyway, Major.” He saw their sudden concern and smiled, looking handsome and vulnerable. “Well maybe one at a time with a rest in between.”

  “You’re feeling better, I can tell,” smiled Starfire. She bent down and kissed his forehead. It was cold and clammy.

  “That’s enough for now.” Vermillion, still in Delta Ten’s body, walked up to the bed. Erion was going to say goodbye to Raan, then saw he had already fallen asleep. They went back to the pilot section, where Hal was keeping watch. They would soon be out of hyperspace and Starfire, for one, wanted to land on Manta Six and get their Delta Ten back.

  “How’s the wounded soldier, Major?” asked Hal, a bit too casually.

  “Recovering well, Hal,” said Erion. She knew better than to say something like, ’don’t blame yourself, or ‘it wasn’t your fault,’ because she knew it wouldn’t have made any difference.

  “We’ll be coming out of hyperspace in five minutes,” said Starfire, scanning her controls. Hal sat on Starfire’s left, acting as co-pilot and Erion sat in her usual place at Navigation. Erion leaned forward and spoke over the com.

  “We’ll be entering normal space in five minutes, Vermillion. I’m going to rig for re-entry.” She waved a slender hand over a crystal and hatches all over the ship slid shut. The bulkhead lights changed to orange and the ship made the usual clanking, whining noises that happened when it was slowing down from light speed.

  The landscape looked much more blue when they came in to land on Manta Six, the main cargo doors were open and they drifted inside and shut off the engines. Bob was outside the Grennig’s rear cargo bay door and met them at the bottom of the ramp with a hover gurney. Vermillion transferred Raan from the Grennig’s trolley to this one with ease, despite Raan’s protests that he could walk by himself.

  “The base is yours,” said Vermillion as she followed Bob and the gurney, “I will settle Captain Raan and then I shall transfer my consciousness back into my own body.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Delta Ten walked into the guest lounge.

  “Is that you in there, Del?”

  “It is I, Lieutenant.” Starfire rushed across the room and hugged him, much to everyone’s surprise.

  “It’s been a rotten two days,” she explained, “and I missed you.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he placed his arms around her and squeezed, gently as he had seen humans do. “I have to report that Captain Raan is making a speedy recovery and he will join us for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “What time is it, Del?” asked Erion. Everyone kept Aurian Standard Time, but events had overtaken them.

  “It is eleven thirteen at night, Major.” He pointed to a door off their lounge, “your bunks are through there and the food replicators are on the side, there.”

  “Too tired to eat, muttered Starfire, “I’m going to turn in.”

  “I’ll join you, Lieutenant,” said Erion. They both looked at Hal.

  “I’ll stay here for a while,” he said.

  “Suit yourself,” said Erion.

  He wasn’t there when they rose the next morning.

  “Don’t tell me he’s gone off again,” muttered Starfire.

  “In what, Lieutenant?” asked Erion, “there’s only the Grennig and he can’t fly that on his own.” She caught Starfire’s eye, warily. “He can fly it, can’t he?” Starfire nodded.

  “Mr Hal has not taken the Grennig,” stated Delta Ten from his place by the door. He glared briefly at the computer screen on the wall and it lit up to show Raan, asleep in his hospital bed with Hal sleeping in a chair next to him. “He has been on watch there all night,” said Delta Ten. “He eventually fell asleep at five forty seven this morning. Vermillion did not even dare to place a blanket over him in case he awoke.” As they watched, Raan began to stir. He opened his eyes, yawned, and then looked to his right at Hal, asleep on the chair. As soon as Raan moved, Hal went from fast asleep to instantly awake. The two men looked awkwardly at each another then the door slid open and Vermillion strode in. She was back in her gold, bronze and copper shell and she was carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. She placed them on a nearby table, lifted Raan like a baby until he was sitting upright and waved her hand over something at the end of the bed so that the head of the bed moved up to support him. She stared briefly at something in mid-air, nodded to herself, then bent down and removed the tube in Raan’s arm.

  “When you have had your coffee, I will inspect the plastiskin over your wound, Captain.” She let the end of the tube go and it snaked slowly back into the wall. “Your blood pressure is now normal, your temperature has come down and if the plastiskin has taken, I can see no reason why you cannot get up.”

  “Thanks Vermillion,” Raan took his coffee from her and took a gulp with a grateful sigh.

  “Friend Hal, you need to sleep,” Vermillion handed Hal his coffee.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said, reaching for a cigarillo from his breast pocket. Vermillion gently brushed his hand aside.

  “A cigarillo stimulant will only postpone the inevitable. You have not rested for hours. You need proper sleep.” Hal took a sip of his coffee and looked up at her. “You took the caffeine out of this, didn’t you?”

  “I am afraid I did more than that, friend Hal.” He glared accusingly at her as she gently took the mug from his suddenly paralysed left hand.

  “You b….” His eyes closed and his head dropped onto his chest. Raan eased back his sheet, swung his legs over the side of the bed stood back as Vermillion gently placed Hal’s body on it. She laid the bed flat again and Raan covered him with the sheet.

  “Don’t take his gun,” warned Raan. “He’ll never settle if you do that, even if he’s unconscious.”

  “Here are your clothes, Captain,” said Vermillion, handing him a pile of laundry and Raan shrugged into his white, collarless shirt, blue jeans and black boots. Even though they were in a safe haven, he buckled on his gunbelt, tied the bottom of the holster to his thigh and placed his blaster inside it.

  “How are you feeling, Vermillion?” he asked. She was not a machine, like Delta Ten; the
consciousness inside her metal shell was from a real person.

  “My naivety caused you to be gravely injured, the probable death of six people and great distress to my dear friend, Hal.” Vermillion looked down at his unconscious form. “Both Tranter and Hal warned me about the evil of some humans, but I did not listen. I will not venture far from my Citizens again.” Raan nodded and looked at Hal.

  “Is he going to be all right?”

  “It is a swift acting drug, but he will soon fall into a natural sleep.” Vermillion took his arm. “Now, your comrades are waiting outside."

  A smiling Raan in his favourite pose, that is, with a girl on each arm, walked to the guest suite. He sat in between Erion and Starfire to eat breakfast and then they took their coffees back to the couch. Vermillion sat on her low stool and called Delta Ten over from his usual place by the door.

  “Right then,” began Erion, “we had better get back to the Cantina. We have a lot of organising to do.” She looked at Vermillion, “Is there anything you wish to add to the arrangements so far?”

  “No, Erion. We are ready here. We are also in communication with the Trenee. I find Kaura a very interesting person. I think it would be best if the human transfers were carried out first. Once they are safely settled at their new locations, we can concentrate on the difficult migration of the whole of the Trenee population. By then, we should have all their requirements in place here.” Erion nodded her agreement and Raan asked,

  “Have you figured out how you’re going to do it yet, Major?” v

  “Of course.”

  “Really?”

  “No.”

  “It’ll come to you, sir,” said Starfire.

  “I hope so, Lieutenant,” smiled Erion, “I’m thinking we’re going to need a really big diversion.”

  “What about another earthquake?” suggested Starfire. “Kaura seems pretty good at those.”

  “It would also bring more Federation troops to Serrell to help,” answered Erion. The door slid open and Hal stalked in. He was dressed in his customary black clothes and didn’t speak to anyone as he made his way to the food replicator. Even Starfire didn’t make a sarky remark about having a good sleep. She could see that he wasn’t in the mood for it.