"You must take care," he began in his warm, rich tones. "You are the longest surviving crew in the Rebel Alliance and you are becoming holo heroes." Raan beamed, but the robot continued. "There are those on all sides who would like to see you fail. Be careful out there." Bemused, they all nodded and left.
"There's a table," said Erion, pointing across the Cantina to where a group was just rising to leave. They headed for it and sat down, Hal and Raan with their backs to the wall and the girls sitting slightly to the side and setting their weapons right for easy access. Delta Ten, who didn't need to use his eyes to scan, sat with his back to the room with all his sensors on full. It was naturally done, without a trace of self consciousness, and while they talked, they all watched the room, noting who came in and who left.
Raan spoke into the table com and Orlando, the old bartender, left the group of people he was talking with and walked out from behind the bar to serve them in person.
"What'll you have?" he cackled.
"Four specials," ordered Raan, holding forth his card. Orlando waved a dismissive hand.
"Fresh sandwiches," he grinned, widely. "On the house, guys, Thirty Seven's instructions. I'll bring 'em over myself."
Half an hour later, they all sat drinking coffee and smoking relaxant cigarillos after a substantial breakfast. The Cantina, equipped with the very best food replicators in the known galaxy, also had a reputation for real, fresh food. It was rare, delicious and very expensive, and for Thirty Seven to offer it to them, usually meant their mission would be more life threatening than usual. Raan was right, they all felt better after excellent meal and it made a change for them to all sit together to eat. They were usually on a mission, or on board their ship where at least one of them kept pilot's watch.
"So, Gant had already sorted us out with a mission and a cargo," began Starfire. "That makes me feel kinda stupid."
"No, Lieutenant," he's just really really good at his job," said Erion. "Del, are you still legally registered as the Grennig's owner?"
"I am," answered the stoic robot. Since Delta Ten was the only member of the crew who was not officially on the Federation's wanted list, mainly because he did not technically exist, he was registered with a false identity as an Aurian trader who held the papers to their ship. He idly held a glass of water, although he did not drink. He could go through the motions of eating and drinking, but then had to empty out his food sac later. Starfire and Raan had seen him do this and Starfire pronounced it 'Yuk!' so they tried to avoid it if they could. Delta Ten was a unique robot in that he took human form. Only a few people other than the Grennig's crew knew this and they wanted to keep it that way.
"The usual ought to do us then," said Erion. "Del is the trader, Starfire the pilot, Raan is co and Hal is protection." Starfire yawned.
"I'd better get back to our quarters and get my head down for a bit." Raan nodded in agreement. As the ship's pilots, they would have the difficult task of navigating their corvette through the asteroids before they could engage their star drive.
"A last drink before we head off into the unknown," he stated. They all nodded at this and Hal leaned forward towards the comlink at the centre of the table to order more drinks. He stopped and looked up suddenly as a group of young men entered the Cantina.
"What is it?" asked Starfire. Hal shook his head, but the others prepared for action. Hal had an uncanny instinct for predicting when trouble would come their way. Rarely was he wrong, and was not proved so in this instance as one of the group, a young pilot who was worse the wear for drink, lurched in their direction.
"Well, well if it isn't the famous Grennig crew," he teetered on his heels. "Look everyone, here they are in the flesh, gaining fame and fortune while the rest of us just die for the rebellion." He raised his glass, "I'd like to give you a toast…" which was as far as he got before hot tempered Raan leapt up from his seat and knocked the glass from the young pilot's hand.
"Cool it, man," he warned. "We don't want everyone to know who we all are, do we?" he added softly. The young man gulped and shook his head, not trusting himself to speak in case Raan cut loose with the blaster he had thrust into his stomach. Erion stood up.
"Raan, put that thing away." She waited until he had holstered the weapon and turned towards the pilot. "Go and sit down with your friends." She lowered her voice and muttered, "we're all on the same side here, now act like it!" The young man turned and slouched away to be comforted by his friends who had found a table on the other side of the room.
"Perhaps we all ought to go back," suggested Erion.
"I think you're right," answered Raan. Watched by the whole room, they stood up and walked out, with Hal keeping a close eye on the group of pilots at their table, who glared at them them with angry eyes.
"What was all that about I wonder?" asked Starfire. "They were just a bunch of sky jockeys on leave. Why make a play for us?"
"Because we're still alive," murmured Hal as they entered an aircar.
"What?" asked the other three in unison.
"Remember what Thirty Seven said," he began. "We are the longest surviving group in the Alliance."
"That's because we're better than the others," grinned Starfire.
"No, it's because we're sneakier than the others," corrected Raan. They entered the small suite that had been made up for them and sat down on the couches with a grateful sigh.
Four hours later, Delta Ten stood with his back to the door, playing his sensors across the room. Erion lay on the couch asleep, her head in Raan's lap. He was asleep with a glass of wine in his hand and his feet up on the low, plexiglass table. Starfire lay back on a facing couch, her crossed ankles resting on the other side of the table. She was still covered in tinsel, fast asleep with her mouth slightly open and snoring gently. Hal sat next to her, cleaning his blaster. Parts of it lay on a cloth on the table, and he carefully cleaned all the pieces with an oily rag and started to put his gun back together.
Elkrist and Thirty Seven, sitting in his private office watched all this through a monitor that even Delta Ten could not detect. Elkrist didn't look that happy about it and Thirty Seven seemed to read her thoughts.
"They would not like it," he began in his chiming voice, "but eventually they would understand."
"I don't know, Thirty Seven," she said, gazing at the scene. "They are a tight group, the best we have, but our computers cannot come up with why they are so successful. Look at them!" She shook her head, "a bounty hunter with a heart of stone, an outcast Terrellian pilot, a Marine Captain who should have been a Major but for his attitude, and the Lady Erion," sighed Elkrist. "She still thinks she is going to clear her father's name and rejoin the Marines."
"We should count ourselves lucky they are on our side," said the robot, sagely. Elkrist nodded in agreement and leaned towards the computer to turn off the screen.
Chapter 5
One jump and eight hours later, Starfire steered the Grennig towards a stationery orbit at the rear of the farthest moon in the Norbus system. "Well, that's us parked," she grinned. "Got everything you need?"
"Yep," answered Raan. He stood with Erion, just inside the hatch of the pilot section, wearing the outfits they had manufactured from the replicator. They both wore clothing that was the current fashion on Auria but the colours were muted olives and faded peach and had been weathered a little so that they did not look brand new. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves, so the look they went for was lower middle class, but just rich enough to take the sky train. At least the touts and sellers should avoid them. Erion swished a heavily embroidered cloak around her shoulders and smiled, grimly.
"Have you managed to reach our contact again?"
"Yes, Major," answered Delta Ten. "The meeting place and time have changed for an hour earlier. I have synchronised your recognition codes but should that fail, there is a codeword, which is 'Thirty Seven'. You have four hours to fly to the sky train, dock with the Engine and make the transfer, which should be amp
le time for the given task."
"Right then, Captain, let's go." Erion walked out of the hatch and Raan followed her. Five minutes later, Starfire opened the rear cargo hold doors and the Little Dragon, their six seater planet hopper, drifted into sight. White puffs of exhaust could be seen from the thrusters as Raan slowly manoeuvred the little craft away from its mother ship.
"Little Dragon clear of the hold," Raan's voice came over the com. "From now on we are called the 'Moonlight'. Next stop; Norbus One!" He gunned the motors and quickly disappeared from view, although Starfire could still track them on her scanner until they disappeared around the planet. She closed the Cargo hatch and settled down to wait.
"Norbus One, dead ahead," said Erion. "Time to see if those codes are still active."
"There's the Port," Raan pointed out of the direct viewing window to what looked like a long, sparkling rod that left the planet and climbed up into the blackness of space. It terminated in a brightly lit structure that looked loosely like a giant crystal bell with a domed, glass roof.
"This is the planet hopper Moonbeam requesting carriage dock," Erion spoke calmly, not showing any apprehension.
"This is Norbus One Skytrain, do you have a booking reference or do you wish to pay now?"
"Sending booking reference now, Skytrain," Erion touched a crystal in front of her and a split second later, the voice at the other end said,
"Welcome to the Skytrain Starport, Lowen and Morei Cusp. Is there any change to your booking?"
"No, it's still just the two of us."
"Do you require hotel facilities?"
"No thank you, Port, we'll sleep on board." Erion and Raan shared a 'thumbs up'. "When are you scheduled to depart?" added Erion.
"We leave for Auria Prime in three point nine hours, Lowen Cusp. You are very close to our docking deadline. I'm afraid the only carriage available at this time is the rear carriage. Can you see it?"
"Affirmative," answered Erion. Now they were closer, the vast scale of the building was apparent. The rod was in fact a glass shaft that carried several lifts up and down from the surface of the planet to the Starport at the top. The well-lit lifts could be seen going up and down carrying seated passengers. The shaft was ringed every linear with a fancy, black wrought iron band. The theme carried on around the Starport itself which they could see now had twenty or so levels. Each one was circled by intricate wrought iron work and the domed roof looked like a massive crystal umbrella with wrought iron spines that curled from a central spike down the roof to connect with the uprights of the building. They grew close enough now to see the hundreds of people moving about near the windows. A good few of them were in uniform, either Space Marines or Galactic Police. Several Aircar tubes snaked from the centre of the glass structure to docked spaceships and one of these connected to a massive freighter with colourful markings and a huge logo painted on its side. Behind the ship was a line of metal crates, each holding a small ship, stretching away from the station.
"Fraggin' hell!" Raan gave a low whistle. He had never been this close to a Skytrain terminus before and was amazed. Erion had visited them a few times but was still impressed by their construction. The Skytrain was a way that people could travel through hyperspace in planet hoppers or small space yachts that did not have jump capability. A huge ship, called the Engine, would tow carriages, which looked like the links of a large and very complicated box chain. The Planet hoppers were fixed inside the carriages and their passengers could either stay on board, or visit the Engine to sample its many delights. Carriages were allocated according to size and type, so Raan slowly edged their ship to the largest carriages at the rear of the chain. The last one lit up for them and Raan used the manoeuvring thrusters to edge the Little Dragon inside the steel cage. There was a clang and a thud as an Aircar umbilical made contact with their hatch, then a steel roller door gradually lowered to seal them inside. Hydraulic rams rose from underneath them and dropped down from above to clamp their little ship and hold it steady in its private metal carriage. On the end of the carriages was a medium sized, two man vessel, facing outward. This was the reserve Engine, that could be used if the main Freighter failed. The aircar tube connected with it, but it was not usually manned unless needed.
"Well, that's us docked then," said Erion, stating the obvious. The safest place to meet their contact was the Engine. The Norbus system was one of the largest and busiest, next to Auria and if they had tried to meet on the planet, they would have been picked up by the Police or Marines as they tried to land. The Sky Train Terminus was always busy, and ships came and went without too much notice.
"What time do we meet our contact?" asked Raan.
"Thirteen hundred," answered Erion, checking her wrist com. "Nearly two hours." She caught sight of Raan's pleading expression and sighed, "I suppose that gives us time for a look around before our meeting." Raan grinned and slid his pilot seat back on its rails.
"How's your palm print, Major?" Raan lifted his own hands palm uppermost to inspect that thin membrane that stretched over them."
"Still holding," Erion gazed at her own hands and smiled. The false palm prints and fake contact lenses were designed by Thirty Seven and this was the first time they had been used on a corporate ship. Erion joined Raan at the side hatch and he pressed his hand over the ident at waist height. There was a hiss and their hatch split open, the top two thirds rising and the lower third dropping down to reveal a low flight of steps into a short, pressurised tunnel. They found themselves two steps away from an aircar, which they hailed and travelled along the chain towards the Engine.
"I've heard about these things, but I've never been on one," Raan admitted as he gazed up at the destination time on their aircar. It took less than three minutes to traverse the length of the Skytrain carriages and the aircar doors opened out into a large, sumptuous lounge.
The Engine, which was really a converted freighter, was laid out like a luxury hotel. The aircar deposited them in a huge foyer. A thick, deep red and gold carpet covered the floor and the fixtures and fittings were gilt and mahogany. Circular seats with plush, studded velvet padding were scattered about the floor and a very wide, marble effect, double staircase wound its way to an upper gallery. The centre of the room was taken up with a circular glass tube, which rose up through the galleries far above them. Glass aircars rose slowly up and down, stopping to allow passengers to traverse the many floors along glass walkways that joined the galleries like spokes of a wheel.
"Wow!" whispered Raan. "This is one classy joint. I gotta take a picture for Thirty Seven. The Cantina would look great done up like this."
"Don't get carried away, Captain," muttered Erion, "we're here on business, remember. You're not on leave yet." They walked to the check in desk and held their palms over a pad that a pretty young Aurian girl held towards them. Their false identities seemed to be working and after their palms had been logged, they leaned forward for a retinal scan. A big green 'OK' lit up on the scanner and the girl behind the desk smiled at them.
"Enjoy you stay," she trilled to their departing backs.
"Come on, let's go upstairs!" Raan headed off with Erion following wearily behind. The upstairs gallery was about twenty feet wide and full of travellers. It had the same red and gold carpet as the floor below and was ringed with aircar hatches. The walls were panelled in light oak and each aircar door had a gold number above it in a wooden frame.
"Sir?" A young page in red and gold livery, held a slim, flexible pad out to Raan from a sheaf of them in his hands.
"Thanks, boy." Raan took one and flipped the lad a credit. He showed the flexi to Erion. It was a throw-away computer pad with a holographic map of the Engine on the front.
"Look, they got a Dream Suite," smirked Raan, pointing to the menu on the back. "Fancy a trip with me? We could fly some unicorns or something."
"There's no way I'm getting into your head, Captain. We'd better find a gift shop, though. Starfire will never forgive us if we go back
empty handed." She studied the flexi menu. "Ah, there's a mall," Erion pointed to one of the levels. Each level contained a different aspect of the Engine's features. There was a level for dining, sleeping accommodation for those who wished it, a gym, holo suite, theatres, shops, everything in fact for the traveller who had money to spend.
They waited for an aircar to arrive and shared it with two other couples, who seemed just as excited as Raan. The aircar went straight up and soon deposited them on another balcony, where they could look over the glass walkways to see the lobby ten floors below them. The aircar hatches were interspersed with fancy, glass etched doors that led to different establishments. Raan opened up the tab for shopping on his flexi and a selection popped up on this screen.
"Here's gifts and souvenirs," he said, scrolling down the list. They walked in to a huge emporium and Raan picked out a tasteless wobbly toy for Starfire's console. "She'll love this," he grinned, shaking the item. It was called 'Love in Space' and showed two space suited figures on a spring. "Look!" he nudged Erion and wobbled it.
"My god," she muttered as she watched the two figures bouncing up and down. "You really need to see a psychiatrist." She consulted her wrist link. "Time we were going. Let's have a look at that flexi." They consulted the map, opened up the page for dining and located The Aurian Grill. It didn't take them long to get there and within ten minutes they were outside its glass doors. It was laid out like a diner inside and they walked to a secluded booth right at the back and ordered their meal from a touch screen set into the table. They checked the area for listening devises and looked up as a tall, elderly gentleman approached them.
"Is this seat taken?" he had a firm, quiet voice with the accent of a high born. "I don't like to eat alone."
"No, the seat isn't taken," answered Raan. "Sometimes it's nice to eat with a stranger." Weird introductions over, the man relaxed, slid into the corner seat opposite them and rested his walking cane between his knees.
Starfire and The Planet Killer Page 6