“We’re talking through our plans to bring Kaura’s Terrellians and the Serrell prisoners here,” said Erion, in an attempt to bring him into the conversation.
“Oh, goody,” he said, dryly. “I’ll alert the media, shall I? There are still a few folks you haven't managed to tell.”
“Do not fear for us, friend Hal,” said Vermillion. “We shall not make an appearance. The re-fuelling of the ships and transfers of the political prisoners from Serrell will be made strictly by the Rebel Alliance.”
“Look, there’s only a hundred and fifty or so.” explained Erion. “If there was somewhere safe within one jump from Serrell we wouldn’t have to come here, but there isn’t.” The Terrellian system was the farthest away from anything else in the quadrant and Manta Six was ideally placed for the perfect re-fuelling stop. Its little system was mostly mined out and of the other five planets, only one was populated and very sparsely.
“What about taking a fuel tanker with us to Serrell?” asked Starfire.
“Under peaceful circumstances that would be the ideal solution, Lieutenant. We will more than likely be in the middle of a fire fight. We’d have to leave it nearby in open space and hope it didn’t get seen, either sitting there or re-fuelling one of our vessels.”
“Gant’s good at this sort of stuff,” put in Raan. His colour was coming back and he felt stronger by the hour.
“You’re right, Captain,” said Erion. She turned to Vermillion, “We’d better get back to the Cantina.”
“I shall miss you all,” she said, “as will the Citizens. It has been refreshing to have new people to talk with and I have had an adventure to remember for the rest of my days.”
Vermillion, Bob, Hofolhdxhy and a few other Citizens bid goodbye as Starfire lifted off in the Grennig and Raan followed her into orbit at the controls of the now empty fuel tanker. They fiddled about a bit up there and got the tow lines anchored before Delta Ten went over in the Little Dragon and picked him up.
As Starfire said, the band was back together and they all sat in their usual seats. Raan and Starfire sat at the front as pilot and co. Erion sat at Raan’s left in the navigation post, Delta Ten sat on Starfire’s right at engineering and Hal sat just inside the entrance hatch at the starboard gunnery console. Once the Grennig was in hyperspace, there wasn’t much to do for the next four hours so Starfire and Hal stood watch while Raan, Erion and Delta Ten took a bit of what Erion called ‘me time'.
Delta Ten was up one level in engineering, using the main computer to gather information, Raan was taking a nap and Erion went to the gym. As Hal and Starfire were alone, she swivelled her pilot seat around to face him.
“Do you think it works the other way?” she asked. Hal looked up. “You know, if the Trenee can contact us, do you think we could contact them? Maybe get some more information?” Hal shrugged.
“How would you do that?”
“I don’t know; concentrate really hard on Prince Grennig maybe?”
“Why don’t we try it and see?” Hal watched Starfire screw up her face for a minute and said, “Well?”
“Nah, nothing. What about you?” Hal shook his head.
“You didn’t look like you were trying very hard to me,” said Starfire, indignantly.
“I was trying inside, Lieutenant,” drawled Hal, softly. A little chime sounded to tell them it was time to eat and Delta Ten walked into the pilot section.
“It is my turn to stand watch, Lieutenant.” They all unconsciously treated Delta Ten as an equal member of the crew but as he was an android, he could stand his watch alone. Usually, two people stood watch in the pilot section of a long haul ship in hyperspace. It was extremely boring and having two people there was supposed to stop the pilots from falling asleep. There were monitors which could alert a dozing pilot, but they were intrusive and loud, and sometimes came on when a pilot was musing. This was something old hands did, where they could keep a superficial watch on the ship’s systems while doing other things, like reading or listening to music and Starfire de-activated their monitor when Erion was not around. Since Delta Ten just plugged himself into the ship somehow, he could stand watch all by himself.
It would have been a simple matter to order him to do it all the time, but since Erion had made him a free machine, he went on the rota like everyone else. Starfire had stopped using him as her personal organiser because even that didn’t seem right somehow.
“Thanks, Del,” Starfire got up and stretched. “I’ll grab a bite then I think I’ll do some sunbathing; work on my tan. Maybe if I look more like an Aurian, I’ll get a bit more respect.” She loftily ignored Hal’s snort of derision. “I might have a bit of a nap later too. Will you let me know when it’s ninety minutes before re-entry?”
“Of course, Lieutenant.”
It seemed to Starfire that no sooner had her head hit the pillow that Delta’s Ten’s warm tones sounded through her bunk console. She yawned and sat up, swung her legs over the side of the bunk and tottered out of her cabin, still yawning, to the ship’s Vanity, just off the crew lounge. A Personal Vanity Unit was a machine to clean people and clothes. Tranter and Delta Ten seemed to know how they worked, but basically, the tiny bits of dirt, grease and bacteria you didn’t want about your person or clothing, were removed by some sort of electromagnetic charge. They would try to clean anything you put in it, and many a pocket tablet or dinner service had been ruined by accident or design.
All you had to do was hang up your clothing on the rack provided and stand in the booth for a minute or so. Tranter had put a high spec version in the Grennig so you could, if you wished, stand in it fully clothed and come out smelling fresh as a daisy, or whatever flower you preferred, and your clothes would be clean and presented how you wished. She groaned when she saw the red light was on, which meant someone was already in there. She waved her hand over the crystal on the door, to alert the person inside she was waiting, and Raan’s voice came over the com.
“If that’s Erion or Star, you can join me if you like.” His recuperation was obviously on track.
“Raan, come on…” pleaded Starfire, crossing her legs. One of its other functions was a toilet, and Starfire wanted a pee. There were several toilets all over the ship but she suddenly realised she needed to go urgently. “Raan, come on; I need to go now!” The door slid open and a naked Raan emerged, carrying his clothes.
“All right, if you’re in such a hurry.” Starfire rushed past him,
“Thanks, Captain!” She used all the functions on the Vanity and emerged a few minutes later, hair and body clean and wearing the man’s white shirt that she used for a nightie. She had been a bit haphazard in her programming and the shirt was starched, pressed and had such sharp creases in its sleeves that she could have sliced bread with it. She walked back to her cabin, feeling as though she was wearing cardboard.
The crew lounge was full when she came out of her cabin, dressed as usual in her khaki flight suit and lace-up boots, and everyone was sitting at the round table in the centre of the room. Hal was tucking into what smelled like a bacon sandwich, which made Starfire’s mouth water and Erion and Raan were eating some sort of cereal with pieces of fruit in it. Erion, a committed vegetarian, pursed her lips with dismay when Starfire sat down next to Hal with her high protein, fake bacon butty.
“How can you choose to eat the simulated flesh of animals when you can have anything you like from the food dispenser?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee and not really expecting a reply.
“Shit, I can tell you that, Major,” said Hal softly, “it’s because we’re used to eating meat. What do you think Terrellians do with their dead?” Erion sprayed a mouthful of coffee over the table.
“No, no, no, no!” She covered her ears.
“Stop it, Hal,” Starfire nudged him, violently. He was still obviously in a bad mood and winding Erion up was one of his stress release diversions. “He’s having you on, Major. Terrellians don’t eat their dead. Well,” she continued, “I g
uess eventually they do.” Raan let out a snort of hysterical laughter and almost choked on his coffee.
“What?” Erion looked wildly round the table. “Does everybody know about this but me?”
“It isn’t like that, Major,” Raan gained control of his laughter. “You been to Terrell, haven’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, what’s on the surface of it?”
“Not much,” she admitted. “Turbines, ash and storms mostly.”
“Well, you can’t grow much out there. What did you think they ate?”
“I never gave it much thought really. I thought the replicators did it all.”
“You have to put in to get out, Major,” said Hal. “All biological waste, and that includes the dead, goes to underground fields just below the surface.
“Oh, hydroponics!” she said.
“No,” said Hal, “There isn’t enough water for that.
“They’re called The Levels, Major,” said Starfire. “Underground fields full of compost, worms, plants, flowers,” she paused, “and insects. Billions of insects.” Light dawned.
“Oh, I see,” she began, “so what happens when someone dies?”
“Terrellians have what they call a Giving Ceremony,” answered Starfire. “The body is placed in a paper shroud and laid to rest under the surface to give back what it took.”
“Yeah,” continued Raan, “there’s hundreds of levels with different plants and different insects.” You can eat the plants if you want, but most Terrellians are brought up on re-formed insect protein.” Erion pulled a disgusted face and Raan decided to change the subject.
“Right,” he said, “we got just under an hour before we leave hyperspace. What’s the plan then, Major?” Erion raised her head and spoke loudly.
“Del, I’d like you to holo in, please.”
“Of course, Major.” A holographic, life sized image of Delta Ten appeared to be sitting at the table between Starfire and Raan. Because he interacted with the ship on a different level, he could monitor the systems while doing other things. He looked solid, but he had brought part of the pilot's console with him. It melted seamlessly into the table and Erion nodded and cleared her throat.
“We have just over twelve hundred Terrellians and a hundred and sixty three freed prisoners to relocate somewhere. I know the Katraians will take some of them, but as for the rest,” she looked around the table. “I’m open to offers.”
“We can’t take the prisoners to the Cantina,” said Raan, “It only takes one of them to blab and we’re sunk.”
“Let’s hope they go for the Trenee mind reading thing and go to Katraia,” said Starfire.
“That mad Trenee professor said it might only work on Terrellians,” said Hal. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sipped some coffee.
“We can’t bank on all the Terrellians wanting to go to Katraia either,” mused Erion. “We can’t force them to go anywhere.”
“Kaura told us he was going to hypnotise them all to lose their agoraphobia and learn a skill,” said Starfire. “I was going to nominate Hal for a personality transplant.” He scowled at her.
“There’s always the possibility it could go wrong and suck out whatever personality is in there already, Lieutenant,” Erion was still smarting from the ‘Terrellians eating their dead’ comment. “He hasn’t got enough to get by as it is.”
“Women!” muttered Hal to Raan. There were astonished looks from around the table. It was only one word, spoken man-to-man as it were, but it meant so much more.
Hal didn’t have a lot of use for other people. He didn’t mix well, didn’t socialise or have any hobbies and, up to then, hadn’t thought much about Captain Raan one way or the other. He was just part of the crew. A competent pilot and a good soldier. A pretty-boy who could keep his cool in a fight and shoot straight. The incident on Aquitaine proved him to be much stronger than that. A lesser man would have succumbed to unconsciousness, given the pain he must have been in, but not only did he force himself to stay awake, he followed a battle plan and fought off an attacker. Hal had learned what Starfire and a only a few others had realised; that Raan covered up his bravery and cool headedness under a blanket of jokes and adolescent humour. Hal had not spoken of the incident or offered an apology, nor did he think Raan would expect one, but Hal felt guilty nevertheless and this was his way of offering a very small olive branch. Raan knew this and took it, knowing how hard it was for the cold eyed gunman to open up.
“They’re all the same, man, no matter what race, what planet, what age. The average man can’t understand ‘em, but luckily, I got a gift.” Erion and Starfire looked at each other and shook their heads in disbelief.
“He’s back to normal,” they said together.
An hour later, they followed Little Rock Fifty-Eight through the asteroid fields to Con Tranter’s base and Raan set the empty tanker free to float to a gradual halt. Tranter greeted them all at the aircar hatch and held Erion’s hands a little longer than custom demanded.
“Gant, Thirty Seven and Jed are on their way,” he said as he led them to his main lounge. “Elkrist stayed behind because she’s got a big party of pirates hosting a wedding or something and she’s put extra security on. You know what she’s like, she wants to keep an eye on everyone.” They helped themselves to coffee and waited. Apart from sitting next to each other, Erion and Tranter showed nothing of their feelings, but Tranter did lean over and touch her hand.
“How’d everything go?”
“I’ll tell you later,” she whispered back.
“What, tonight later?” he smirked. She kicked him under the table as Delta Ten told them Gant’s shuttle had arrived. Tranter left the room to meet them and the perceptive Jeddoh Cloud caught Hal’s eye.
“Are you okay, man?” Jed Cloud and his brothers had known Hal the longest and they had shared a few adventures together on the wrong side of the law when they were younger. Jed was Aurian, with the typical honey coloured skin and amber eyes, but somewhere in the mix must have been a Valasian ancestor, because Jed’s hair was a dark, mahogany colour. He was a tall, rangy individual and spoke with a slow, Valasian drawl that led many to wrongly believe he was slow witted.
“Hal didn’t kill some people,” put in a helpful Starfire.
“He didn’t kill them?” drawled Jed.
“Yeah, but it’s all right. He got around to doing it a few hours later.” Jed looked across the room at Erion. She smiled and shrugged.
“Tranter, you must have put something into that food replicator on their ship.” He looked at Tranter in a funny way as well, when he saw his body language with Erion. Most of the officers in the Rebel Alliance knew how Erion and Tranter felt about each other. He had money riding on it himself and made a metal note to ask Raan if it was pay-out time. “Now,” he sat down and accepted a cool beer from Delta Ten, “thanks, android. Thirty Seven says we have a mission to relocate some good people before some bad people can get them.”
“That’s about it, Jed,” grinned Raan. They had met years before, although each used a different name. Jed was a smuggler then and Raan was working undercover for the Marines.
“And these good people are on…?”
“Serrell,” said Raan.
“Shit, all the way out there? Where are we taking ‘em?”
“That’s part of the problem, Jeddoh,” answered Gant. As the head of the Rebel Alliance, one would have expected him to be tall and commanding, but you wouldn’t have picked him out in a crowd. Typically Aurian, he had fine, delicate features and conducted himself with proud grace, as once befitted his position in the Royal family of his home planet. He had barely escaped with his life, once the Federation decided they wanted all the planet’s stocks of raw fuel. He had left everything he loved behind, including all of his family, who now resided in a mass grave somewhere outside the main city.
“What we need is a nice little planet that can take them all in,” said Starfire.
“Major!”
Delta Ten stood up, rocked on his heels and crumpled to lie unmoving on Tranter’s carpet. They all looked down in astonishment, then Erion rushed to his side and dropped to her knees. She touched his hand. It was cold, like a piece of meat from the fridge.
Thirty Seven was there in an instant, probing and touching. He picked him up and said to Tranter, “Where is your engineering room?”
“Follow me.” Tranter left the room with Thirty Seven, Erion and Starfire.
“Is he dead?” asked Starfire, anxiously.
“I will soon know what is wrong,” said Thirty Seven as they strode quickly down the plastic corridors. Tranter ran ahead opening hatches and hastily cleared a bench of clutter so that Thirty Seven could lay the android down. Del’s eyes were open and staring at nothing. They looked dead, like the eyes of a child’s teddy bear. The black robot pressed somewhere on Delta Ten’s head and the top of it flipped open. Thirty Seven’s eyes glowed a deeper orange as he probed the circuits and relays of his positronic brain.
“Ah ha,” said Thirty Seven, much like a doctor.
“Ah ha,” repeated Starfire, “what does that mean?”
“It is a bit like ’oh ho’, Lieutenant, but not as serious.” Thirty Seven swivelled his head to look at her. “There is nothing to worry about, Starfire. Delta Ten will soon be with us again.”
Suddenly, Delta Ten’s body jerked, life came back to his eyes and they focused on Erion and Starfire, bending worriedly over him. He waited for Thirty Seven to close his head, then he sat up and smiled. It was a genuine smile of warmth and it took Erion and Starfire by surprise. Delta Ten could go through the physical motions of smiling. He could turn up the corners of his mouth and show his teeth, but Starfire asked him not to do it because it made him look like a ventriloquist’s dummy and she said it frightened her. He put his head on one side in a gesture that Erion recognised.
Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture Page 17