"Don't kill us, mister," whined the small man lying in a pool of blood on the dance floor. His arm had been blown off at the elbow. The shock of the wound was beginning to wear off and the pain was setting in. The wounded man looked down at the ghastly horror of his missing hand and screamed, 'My arm! I've lost my arm!" Hal walked towards him, looked dispassionately down and hooked his toe under the scorched limb lying nearby. He nudged it nearer to the stricken man.
"No you haven't. Here it is." He grabbed Erion by the arm and pulled her away, still staring down at the carnage on the Cantina floor. A girl in a black dress and white apron rushed forward and knelt down to cradle the man's head in her ample bosom.
"You crippled him, you bastard!" she spat.
"Nope, self inflicted," said Hal, softly.
"How do you work that out?" asked Erion, looking back. She had seen a lot of death in her career so was only asking out of interest.
"He drew on me. What did he think would happen?" There were several wise nods around the room and the consensus seemed to be that the two unfortunate young men had brought their fate upon themselves. Sympathy for them, apart from the weeping waitress, seemed to be non existent.
"And poor old Stacey over there?" Erion motioned with her head to the far side of the room, where two cleaning robots were lifting the corpse of the recently departed Stacey onto a hover trolley.
"Suicide!" called one of the other diners to muted laughter. Hal stalked off, pretending not to have heard, with Erion in pursuit.
A door opened at the side of the bar, and a tall, shiny black robot with glowing amber eyes stood just outside it. He bowed as they reached him.
"Hal! I was informed you had docked. I expected you sooner."
"We had a little trouble, Thirty Seven."
"So I see. I was hoping someone would tend to those three deserters. Your handiwork has netted us seven thousand credits in bounty money." The robot had a deep, melodious voice which was at all odds with his metallic appearance. He lifted a black hand to Erion, who touched its palm with her own. "Welcome to my establishment. You must be the Dorian's daughter. You favour him, my dear. Come into my office and I will give you what he left in my keeping." As the seven foot robot turned and walked out of the bar, Erion could see he was dented and limping. They followed him into the room and the creaking robot seated himself behind a large mahogany desk. He leaned slightly forward and motioned for them to sit in two armchairs in front of it. When they were seated, he offered them both refreshments, which they declined. Realising that Erion wished to get down to business straight away, he placed his elbows on the desk and made a steeple of his fingers. It was a curiously human gesture and a part of Erion vaguely wondered where this robot had come from.
"Your father sent word here to me six months ago that something serious was in the wind. Important decisions were being taken without his knowledge or consent: decisions that were not necessarily for the good of the Federation. He warned me to be careful whom I trusted and sent a package for me to look after. If he died of other than natural causes, I was instructed to wait another three months for you to claim the package. If you had not done so in that time I was to open it myself." Thirty Seven leaned sideways, opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small plastic box, handing it to Erion. "Will you be staying long with us?" he asked.
"Just tonight," answered Hal.
"Tell Orlando to give you our best suite on the house," said the robot. He put his large black head on one side in another strangely human looking gesture and said to Erion, "I am sorry about your father, my dear. He was a a good man and a trusted friend."
"There seems to be so much about him that I didn't know," said Erion. Hal took her arm.
"Come on Major," he said quietly, leading her out. There was no sign of the fight in the bar room and Hal steered Erion further along the bar to the old man who had called out the warning about bounties. He was wearing a battered old flying jacket and stood taking glasses out of the automat.
"Orlando," nodded Hal.
"How are you, son?" asked the old man. He grinned at Erion, showing a row of brown teeth, interspersed with the old gold one. "Does my old eyes good to see the boy in action. There's nobody can beat him."
"There's always somebody faster," answered Hal, waving aside a request for a drink. "Thirty Seven said to give us the VIP suite."
"Sure, boy," He tapped out something on the computer pad in front of him. He passed it to Erion and Hal, who waved their hands over it in turn. "You know the way." Hal nodded his thanks and they walked over to an aircar door. It opened immediately and a short ride soon found them at the end of a long corridor, flanked with doors. Hal walked to the farthest one and passed his hand over a panel. The door slid open and they walked inside. It was furnished in pale blue and gold and comprised of a double bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom. Erion seated herself on the couch and accepted a drink from Hal, who sat beside her on a comfy chair and waited while she opened her package. It held a ruby recording crystal in a padded pouch. Erion pressed her thumb onto the ident on the flat base, then inserted the crystal into a console built into the arm of the settee. The wall opposite them lit up to show the huge fireplace in General Dubois' manor house on Auria. A hologram of her father appeared, life sized in front of it. He was clearly relaxed and held a drink in one hand and a half smoked cigar in the other.
"My darling daughter," he began, "I sincerely hope that it is you who is watching me now. You have just left for the mining colonies and in a way, I hope you will never see this, for if you do, it will mean that I am dead and my death is no accident. You must be strong, Erion and you must never lose faith in the Marines and what they stand for." He took a sip from his brandy glass and continued. "For many years now, there has been a subversive element filtering into the Galactic Police. The Admiral, I and several other high ranking officers have tried and failed to find out the names of any instigators, but we do know that they are also highly ranked and powerful. Now that I am dead, it will probably mean that there has begun a movement to take complete control of the Aurian Federation through the Galactic Police. You must fight them, Erion and stop them any way you can. I have placed all the information I have inside the memory of your android, Delta Ten. He will give up this information on hearing the trigger words 'Dorcas Hill'. Contact Admiral Nooran. He knows all that I know and he will help you. Trust no one else unless you are absolutely sure of their integrity. There isn't much more for me to say, darling, but goodbye and good luck. Try to live well and die with honour. I love you, my dear, never forget that." The General and the fireplace slowly disappeared and Erion sat staring at the blank wall in silence. She was dimly aware that Hal was speaking to her and made a mental effort to jerk herself back to the present.
"Do you want to go straight back to the base?" he asked.
"No, Hal. You can't fly all that way on manual without rest. You take the bedroom; go on, I'll be alright." The gunman nodded and walked to the bathroom to freshen up before getting some much needed sleep. Erion watched him go, then pushed back the little crystal to watch the recording again.
Chapter 14
Starfire and Raan watched Jemmi's hopper wend its way though the derelict hulks carrying Hal and Erion on their way to the Cantina. Tranter walked silently up to them and clapped them both on the shoulder.
"Time enough for star gazing later; we got work to do." He gave Starfire a friendly shove to get her going and the three of them walked off down the corridor.
"Sir," Delta Ten said from a side hatchway, "I have located the twin engine bomber you requested and I have instructed your robot cranes to bring it into the bay."
"Good, I'll come with you now and take a look at it, see if we can cut the engines free."
"How long will this refit take, Tranter?" asked Raan, "It's not that I want to hurry you or anything, but half the galaxy is out there looking for us and I don't like the thought of us being out here without a ship to fight from." Tranter thum
ped his arm.
"Don't worry pal, you're safe here with me. The galactic police have been looking for this place for years and have never found it. Anyway, it's well protected and screened against their scanners. And to answer your question, it should take about eight weeks to…"
"Eight weeks!" blurted Starfire.
"Come on kid, what did you expect?" shouted Tranter. "You want a complete refit, don't you? That means new engines, new linkages, new computer systems, new hydraulics. The old stuff has to be taken out, and the new stuff put in and linked up." Tranter caught sight of Starfire's shocked face and softened his tone. "Look, I could maybe squeeze it down to six weeks, I suppose, but come on kid, how long did you think it was gonna take?" Starfire shook her head.
"You're right of course, I should have realised." She looked at Raan. "But two months…"
"Look," began Tranter, "I have a ship for sale that might suit you. It's a class six corvette, modified to haul specials."
"Specials?" asked Starfire.
"Contraband," supplied Raan. Tranter had the good grace to look sheepish.
"Yeah, well the engines will do light point six and the modified bomb bay means you can haul a fair piece of freight. She's smaller than the usual Class Six, but that means she's faster and more manoeuvrable. There's an upgraded defence system and two extra guns over and above standard. I could take your old wreck in part exchange. What do you say? At least have a look at her."
"How much do you want for her?" asked Raan, getting right to the point.
"Four; but for you, and with Madillion thrown in, two fifty."
"Two and a half million?" asked Starfire aghast," You must be joking!"
"What about the million you owe us?" asked Raan.
"That'll take it down to one and a half million creds. What do you say?"
"We couldn't even scrape together one and half thousand," said Starfire miserably.
"You won't have to give it to me all in one go," explained Tranter. "Thirty Seven and I have a deal going. He will lend you the money to buy the ship and you pay him back in instalments."
"With a little interest thrown in of course," added Raan.
"We all have to make a living, pal."
"We'll have to talk it over with Erion and Hal when they get back," sighed Starfire. Tranter caught her eye and made as if to speak, then stopped.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well, I wouldn't include Hal in any of your future plans; I don't think he figures to stick around."
"Has he said anything to you about leaving?" asked Starfire.
"He doesn't tell anyone what he's doing but I know he prefers to work alone. From what Erion has told me, he signed up with you for a favour owed to the General. Now his job's done, I figure he'll take off once he's brought your Major back."
"You could be right at that," began Raan, "but we'll wait and see. He's a mean son of a bitch, but he's good in a fight and we'll need him."
"You do have a way with words, Raan," smiled Starfire.
"What do you say we have the rest of the day off," suggested Tranter. "I'll hold off making any changes to your ship until the others get back. Hal figured on two days at the most."
"That should give me plenty of time to get a good tan on this wonderful body," sighed Raan. He grinned at Jemmi, who had just turned the corner and grabbed her elbow, spun her around and led her away without breaking her stride. His voice could be heard fading away along the metal corridors. "Has anyone ever told you of the benefits of lounging by a pool and soaking up those good old ultra violet rays?" The two watched them go and Starfire smiled at Tranter.
"She is very beautiful. Don't you ever get jealous?" Tranter actually looked surprised at the question, then he smiled.
"Listen, a lot of folks get the wrong idea about Jemmi and me. We've been friends a long time, but we're kinda like brother and sister." He leered at Starfire. "Okay, sometimes, when we get a bit lonely…."
"Argh…!" Starfire put up a hand, "I don't want to know. I'm sorry I asked." Tranter ruffled her hair.
"Well, we stay together because that's the way we like it. We go back a long way, but we really are just very good friends. Jem can leave any time she likes. She's a free agent and so am I."
"I noticed," muttered Starfire under her breath. Tranter chose not to hear and steered the conversation towards flying, a subject close to both their hearts. They were still discussing the merits of the solar assisted fusion propulsion system when they reached the lounge. Raan was already on the false beach, face down on a lounger while Jemmi applied liberal amounts of tanning gel to his naked back.
"How does he do it?" asked Starfire to no-one in general. "If we landed on a mining colony he would find a harem." She knelt down by the pool, scooped some water out and threw over his back. She smiled warmly at the sound of his muted scream and said, "I thought you might like to see our new ship, but it's patently obvious you have much more important things to do."
"I have every faith in you, Lieutenant," he said with a yawn. "I'll expect a full report over dinner."
Later that evening, the four sat around the table, delighting in a meal that would put a top Aurian restaurant to shame. The conversation and the wine flowed freely, and it was late that night, by Aurian Standard Time, that they retired to their rooms.
Not too far away, deep inside a barren asteroid, Erion finally succumbed to sleep. Hal slid from his bed and walked into the lounge. He retrieved the crystal, placed it back in its pouch and covered Erion with a blanket. Only then did he return the bed and fall into a dreamless sleep himself.
Hal set himself six hours to rest, and he was not surprised to awaken only ten minutes before this time. He bathed, removed his clothes from the auto valet, dressed and buckled on his gun belt before he walked into the sitting room. Erion was also awake, but she was sitting up on the couch, her knees tucked under chin and the blanket draped around her, sipping hot coffee. Hal poured himself one from the food machine and sat by her side in the easy chair.
"If it's okay by you, we'll have breakfast, then I'll take you back." He lit a thin black cigar and permitted himself a sigh of pleasure as the acrid smoke slid into his lungs. Erion noticed that he did almost everything with his left hand, unconsciously leaving his gun hand free.
"Don't you ever relax?" she asked him. He shook his head briefly.
"Too many enemies."
"But you can't live on your nerves all the time."
"I'm used to it."
"But surely…" He silenced her with a glare and stood up, walking to the door.
"Get dressed. I'll be in the bar."
"And thank you too!" muttered Erion under her breath as the tall gunman stalked out. She deliberately took her time, choosing to soak in the marble effect bath, floating amongst soap suds in hot scented water. She felt much better as she dressed, her mood dipping only slightly as she picked up her father's message and slipped the crystal into her pocket. She had done her crying for him, now she must move on. She gave the room a quick look to make sure they had left nothing behind and went to join Hal in the bar. Although it was early morning by Aurian Standard Time, there were a couple of people propping up the bar and there were several others seated at the dining tables. She spotted Hal at a small table, sitting with his back to the wall and drinking coffee. She walked across the dance floor, sat next to him and ordered breakfast from the small com-link built into the table. A plain looking waitress delivered it and Erion ate it in silence as Hal was obviously not in the mood for small talk.
Several interested glances were thrown their way and after Erion had eaten her breakfast, two men and a woman walked up to the table and nodded to Hal. The tallest of the three, a tall, rangy looking Aurian, threw Erion a lopsided grin and spoke in an offworlder drawl.
"Hal, can we meet your friend?" Hal looked pointedly at Erion, who nodded, politely.
"Be my guest," she answered, motioning to the empty chairs around their table. The three drew up chairs and
sat down, the tall Aurian turning his chair around to sit astride it and lean his elbows on the back. He grinned at them.
"Hal, will you introduce us to the lady?"
"Sure," he murmured." Erion, meet Jeddoh Cloud.
"How do you do?" Erion held out her palm and made sure she showed no surprise. Jed Cloud and his brothers were pirates and the Galactic Police had been on their trail for years. There was a substantial reward out for their capture, particularly for Jed, the oldest of the four. He certainly did not look like the sadistic killer and rapist he was suppose to be, but Erion reserved her judgement until she could talk to Hal.
"This is Elkrist," Jed motioned with his head to the silver haired woman on his right. She was very dark skinned and muscular, her glistening body adorned with metal armour and silver jewellery. Erion recognised her name. Elkrist was an infamous outlaw from the planet Valasia, trading on the lusts and greed of men all over the galaxy. Erion had to admit that she came well equipped to accomplish her aims and many a high ranking official had cause to rue the day he met the voluptuous princess. When she spoke, her voice was deep and vibrant, with only a slight trace of Valasian accent.
Starfire at Traitors Gate Page 16