“It must be hard,” said Starfire, gently.
“And it’s going to get a lot harder for these poor sods,” he took another gulp of beer. “Tab is a first class engineer. He told the G Police these men can’t put this building up in the time frame they want so they sent us this other guy to ‘put us on the right track,’ he said.” He shook his head, sadly. “He’s going to start a twenty four hour shift system and bring in another load of prisoners.”
“That’s bad,” muttered Hal, thinking of his mission to contact the Trenee.
“You said it, Vin. Men are going to die, but you know what the son of a bitch said? He said they had allowed for thirty five percent wastage. Wastage for frag’s sake!” He threw his empty beer bottle into the replicator and took out another one. “I didn’t join the Marines for this.”
“Well, the least we can do is give them a good concert,” said Starfire. “Why don’t you get the guys to put some chairs over by the fence and we’ll make sure the stage faces this way.”
“Thanks Kitty. I’ll make a start.”
“Very impressive,” Micah cast an appreciative eye over their work.
“It’s all down to Toola,” said Starfire. “It’s his design, we just bullied people into building it.” There was half an hour to go before Micah’s concert and the big, yellow sun was low on the horizon.
The thunderous roar of a short range shuttle gradually came nearer and three, twenty-seater Planet Hoppers landed outside the fence. It didn’t take long for an excited crowd of Aurians to dismount and walk about the makeshift village.
A patchy lawn was trying its best to grow in the black ash and a few false trees had been erected amongst the benches and café tables. Someone had set up a few rides for the children but it was adults only tonight. There were a couple of taverns, several cafes and a few souvenir shops, all hastily constructed out of modular building cubes, and a false stream tinkled up and over a concrete wall to create a pleasing waterfall. It wasn’t much, but it was better than the overcrowded, stifling, underground quarters of the Aurian base on Terrell. The Marines were happy, their families were happy and the Terrellian Senate charged a hefty rent, so they were happy.
A cool breeze brought a welcome respite to the heat of the afternoon and people were beginning to take their seats. Hal and Starfire had borrowed some prisoners and they had dragged some wood and rocks over to make seating near the fence. Under the watchful eye of the Marine guards, they had also been allowed out of the compound to erect the timber seating for the Aurian visitors before going back inside their prison. Portable generators took power and lighting from the compound to the little round stage sitting exactly half way between the prisoners and the Aurian guests, where Toola had set up amplifiers and a microphone for Micah.
At exactly seven thirty that evening, just as the sun finally disappeared on the western horizon and the silver crescent of the planet Terrell started its night time rise from the east, Micah Jones took to his little stage to enthusiastic applause and started to sing.
“Blimey,” Starfire stared open mouthed at the impressive, dark skinned man as he strummed the Lyca and started to sing a plaintive jazz melody. His voice was so powerful, the amplifiers sent it booming out across the desert plains and dozens more natives appeared out of nowhere to listen as well. Everyone’s attention was on Micah Jones and it was child’s play for Hal to start a small hover-bike and drive quietly away into the desert. They kept the speed down until they were a good half mile away, then Hal opened up the throttle and they skimmed across the moonlit landscape. Starfire kept checking her wristlink map and they eventually pulled up behind a collection of mud huts.
“There it is,” said Hal, quietly. Come on, the villagers will know we’re here by now.” The tall, glass, green obelisk was right where Starfire remembered it. The last time she had seen this place, she had been tied, back to back with Hal and they both thought they were going to die. At present, they were both running towards the obelisk with the whole village screaming behind them, brandishing anything lethal they could carry.
They reached the obelisk together and Starfire pressed against it. “Kaura! she yelled. It’s me, Starfire.” A force wall appeared around them and Starfire grinned. A hole appeared in the ground and they gently slid down the steep, metal slope. A couple of smiling Terrellian men were waiting for them at the bottom and they bowed to them both.
“Welcome back, Hal and Starfire,” please come this way. The Terrellians had never seen the Trenee. They communicated through audio and called them, ’The Guardians’. They were not in fact, born on Terrell, but were captured Natives, left by other tribesmen at the sacrificial obelisk, and saved by the Trenee. Hal and Starfire were left in the small room they remembered from before and then the tunnel opened up in the wall. Starfire and Hal walked down the shallow spiral until they emerged inside the Trenee Council Chamber. There was no dramatic reveal this time round and Hal looked up at the enormous dragon that stood in the centre of the vast circular room.
A huge head with a long, scaly snout and two flaring nostrils topped a long, thick neck. His powerful front legs were stubby, short, and ended in thick, black claws. A wicked looking, ten inch spur jutted from a spar on his folded wing. The black, leathery wings could be seen in the folds that lay across his back. His scales were black, tipped at the end with red, and were so shiny that they looked as if they were made of polished metal. He was wearing a stiff, leather jerkin that was long at the front, then tapered over his back to allow room for a long, slender tail. Two rows of thorny protrusions started at the base of his tail, and widened all the way up his back, to end on the top of his head in sharp, pointed ears. Because he was so tall, he had arched his neck and looked down his nose to try and get to eye level with his human guests. It made him look elegant and imperious.
“Your Highness,” Hal acknowledged the seven foot creature with a short nod and Starfire curtseyed. Something made a coughing sort of noise behind Kaura and he stood aside to reveal a smaller Trenee. He topped six feet, and was bouncing on his stubby, scaly legs.
“Prince Grennig!” Starfire beamed at the creature.
“Welcome back, Lieutenant Starfire.
“Look,” she said, “we’ve seen the situation out there. What can we do to help?” Kaura put a fatherly wing onto Grennig’s shoulder.
“The younger Trenee and the Terrellians we saved must leave here.” Grennig opened his mouth and a roar came out. Starfire and Hal jumped and the words in their heads shouted out,
“No father! We all go or none go.”
“There are over five thousand of us, Grennig, and two hundred and fifty two Terrellian families. How would you suggest we all sneak away? Where would we go and how would we get there?”
“Leave it to the Rebel Alliance.” Hal walked between the two posturing creatures and stared defiantly up at them. “We gotta secret weapon.” They both stopped roaring and looked down at him. “Look, we gotta go soon or we’ll be missed. We need to be able to contact you. We can’t do the mind thing again. It nearly sent us insane.” Kaura, Grennig and seventeen other Trenee slowly swivelled their heads towards a smaller, much older dragon.
“I said it might work, Sire. Only might.” The voice in their heads was female and sounded very old, but unapologetic. Starfire fumbled in her bag and came out holding another, small, pale blue canvas bag with long handles.
“There’s a crystal in here, your majesty,” she said. “It contains information about us and all the frequencies that will reach us.” She fumbled in the bag and brought out a wrist link, which she passed to Grennig. “This is for you. He obligingly lifted a massive, black claw that was thicker than her wrist, and she snapped it on. “It won’t come off again,” she warned. “You’re now part of the crew, Corporal,” she explained, holding her left arm forward to show hers. “If you’re in range, you can contact us, or you can use the computer in it for stuff.” Kaura raised his wing, pointing a wicked looking spur in her direction and
Starfire hung the little canvas bag from it. “From what I remember, you’re pretty smart down here. Between us, we should be able to work something out.”
“I hope so, Lieutenant,” Kaura bowed his massive, scaly head. “We will endeavour to amass all the information you require. We will have it ready for you if you can return to us.” Kaura gave a wide, sweeping motion with a black, leathery wing. A tunnel opened up to his right to show their hover-bike sitting there, engine ticking over, ready to go. It would have looked dramatic, save for the little canvas bag swinging gently at the end of his spur.
“Don’t worry, Your Highness, we’ll think of something.” Hal sat astride the machine and Starfire slid on behind him. He twisted the throttle and it rose a little higher and sped along the tunnel.
“What secret weapon?” Starfire leaned forward to talk into Hal’s ear.
“Erion, you idiot,” began Hal. “If she can’t figure out a plan, nobody can.” They came out near the compound and Hal flicked his hand over the little console to reveal a light intensifying screen between the handlebars. He didn’t want to put on the vehicle’s lights this close to camp. It was fully dark now and the reflected planet, Terrell, hung in the sky like a massive, silver disc. It was a cloudless night and a misty sheen seemed to pour off the edges and hide the many stars in the black sky above them. They slid quietly into camp and walked casually over to the bench to join Toola for the last two songs. The applause was rapturous and Micah had to sing another song before he could get away. Finally, he passed his Lyca to Hal and, waving a white kerchief to his fans, he walked through the compound gates and toward Mr and Mrs Tabbert’s little modular bungalow.
Meg was waiting for him with a schooner of Micah’s favourite cold beer and a multi-coloured, Valasian silk dressing gown. Micah took a good few gulps of beer and walked straight into the Vanity. He emerged a few minutes later, looking clean, but tired and wearing the dressing gown. He finished his beer and ate a plated salad before bidding all goodnight and retiring to his room. Commander Tabbert looked a little down, and Starfire ambushed him after his wife had retired.
“Is everything all right, Tab?”
“It couldn’t get much worse, Kitty,” said Tabbert wearily.
“I just got word that we are going to be relieved. They’re sending the Galactic Police here to take over.”
“Hell, I’m sorry, Tab.” Starfire realised that life for the prisoners would not be pleasant and their life expectancy had just dropped down to zero.
“Yeah, me too.” Commander Tabbert walked slowly to his room.
It was a small bungalow and Commander Tabbert and his wife had given up their bedroom for Micah and Toola. Meg had bedded down in the Commander’s tiny office and the Tabberts retired to the dining room, where they set up a portable bed. Normally Starfire and Hal would have gone to the Constellation, but it was dark and quiet outside and they didn’t want to get shot trying to cross the compound to get to it. In her excitement about having a celebrity for a guest, Mrs Tabbert had forgotten to put the heating up in the lounge and it was bitterly cold. They took the cushions off the seats and arranged them on the floor to make a small bed. Hal liked to sleep on his left side to keep his gun arm free and Starfire liked to sleep on her right side because her left shoulder played up from an old wound. They tried sleeping back to back, but the cushions weren’t wide enough and after some violent, whispered bickering, where neither would back down, they put their outdoor clothes on and lay down facing each other, cold and uncomfortable, huddled under a pair of curtains that Starfire had found in the cupboard next to the Vanity.
Consequently, they didn’t get much in the way of sleep that night and they were both up early to get a shot at the Vanity Unit. It was well before six in the morning, local time, and Hal emerged from the Vanity, smelling faintly of cheap, Marine issue, Sandalwood, just like Starfire. They both had breakfast and decided to go for a walk around the compound. They both felt uncomfortable, sitting in someone else’s kitchen while they were asleep in bed. Meg had told Starfire that Micah rose late, so after their third coffee, they gave up whispering about trivialities and stepped out for a stroll. The guard had changed and someone was at the compound gates, letting in the natives. Their path’s crossed and one of the natives let out a scream and tried to grab Starfire, yelling in his guttural language. She tried to batt away his clutching hands, knowing she must avoid unarmed combat, but then several more of them rushed over and grabbed her by the arms, gesturing and yelling widely. Hal tried to help, but he too, was overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers and held fast.
“What the fraggin’ hell is all this about?” yelled the officer of the day, arriving on the run. He was still shrugging into his uniform jacket as he was late for duty. There was much shouting and gesturing, but since nobody had bothered to try and communicate with the savages before, all the sub lieutenant could do was stare in disbelief. Commander Tabbert turned up to survey the situation.
“Go get a universal translator,” he snapped to a waiting trooper. His presence seemed to have calmed things down a bit, but the sun was rising, along with the stench of unwashed bodies and human faeces that hung around the group like an invisible cloud and he wanted to get away from the smell of them. The trooper returned at the double, with a few more of his colleagues and the hand held device. Tabbert pointed it at the main antagonist and spoke into the little box.
“What is wrong?” He waited for perhaps twenty seconds, then the man grunted a few syllables. It came out of the speaker as,
“Enemy, killers, murderers.” Starfire caught Hal’s eye. Of all the luck, they had to run into someone from the village that had taken Starfire and Hal the year before. It had been Hal that had caused most of the death and carnage during their escape attempt, but Starfire didn’t think it was wise to mention that little nugget. Tabbert held out his hands in the universal sign for peace and then motioned to take Starfire. The man was reluctant, but Tabbert and his men had been good to the villagers, and although he wanted his revenge, food and clothing was better. Especially the boots. He looked down at his feet and then up at his colleagues. There was clearly some sort of conversation between them and eventually, he grunted something else into the machine. It came out as, “Punish them or we no work.” They released Starfire and Hal, but watched with gloating, malevolent eyes as Starfire and Hal were cuffed and taken away.
“Listen, “Raan waved his hands frantically in front of Delta Ten’s eyes with to no effect, “haven’t you got x-ray vision or something?” Delta Ten shook his head.
“We do not have the time for me to explain, Captain. I cannot see.”
“All right,” said Raan, “you’ll have to talk me through it.”
“Five minutes to engine detonation,” the computer droned sweetly on.
“You should see a console in front of you, Captain.”
“Got it.”
“There will be two gauges, one for each engine.”
“Yeah.”
“One of them will show overheating.”
“Big time.”
“There will be a slider beside it, Captain. That is what controls the coolant.”
“Got it.”
“Pull the slider all the way down.”
“Four minutes to engine detonation.” Raan’s voice sounded calm, but his heart was pumping in his chest and his mouth was dry. “Nothing’s happening.”
“Very well, Captain,” There should be another console across the room, to your left.”
“Three minutes to engine detonation.” Raan and Erion charged across the room.
“I’m here Del.”
“There should be a bank of crystals in front of you.”
“Yeah, I see ‘em.”
“The purple one standing proud is the master control. Access it.” Raan waved his hand across it. “Now try the coolant override again.” Raan and Erion rushed back to the engine console and Erion’s hand found it first. She pulled the slider up and then down again.
“Two minutes to …..” The colours on the dial slowly went from red, to amber, yellow and then green.
“Engine detonation avoided.” said the Computer. The ship started to shudder and they all felt the weird sensation that told them it was dropping out of light speed.
“We’re stationary,” said Raan.
“And safe for the moment,” said Erion. “Del, let’s get you to engineering and see if we can get your vision back on line.”
“I wish to be of help, Major,” said a feeble little voice. Professor Lear looked up from where he was cradling his granddaughter’s body on the floor of the engine room.
“You must be kidding!” snapped Raan. The old man raised his hand.
“Please?” Erion helped him up and he stood looking at them. “My vanity, stupid pride and love for my granddaughter has been my undoing. This has all been my fault. Please do not blame my poor Adrianna.”
“What?” asked Erion. This was the same man, but he was different somehow; sharper.
“I made her too well, Major. I think I may have been infected by my granddaughter as much as Captain Raan.” Erion looked down at the sad bundle of clothes that had been Adrianna, lying crumpled on the floor.
“If I may speak,” put in Delta Ten. “Adrianna was a hybrid, was she not?”
“Yes, she was.”
“How much of her brain was human?”
“Eighty one point three percent,” answered the professor.
“Was the archipallium entire?”
“Yes, Del. It was complete. It was the paleopallium that was damaged.”
Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture Page 7
