“We do seem to be spending a lot of time at Tranter’s base lately,” grinned Raan.
“Yeah, well maybe we should take the Grennig back on our own,” said Starfire, “let Erion go back with Tranter so they can get a bit of privacy.”
“I could do with a night at the Cantina,” Raan rubbed his hands together.
“Yeah, come on,” grinned Starfire, “Let’s go get Del and go home.”
Chapter 16
Two weeks went by. The Grennig was in hyperspace, on its way to the Manta System and they were meeting Tranter and Thirty Seven on Manta Six.
Things were going well on Planet Nikal, most of the temporary living cubes had been erected and every family had somewhere, all be it rudimentary, that they could call their very own home. The Rebel Alliance had been busy, sidling in and out of ports all over the system, picking up ecstatic family members and meeting the Rising Star or the Grennig, who took them to be re-united with their loved ones on Planet Nikal.
Eventually every family member had been traced and brought to Nikal and there was a huge celebration, partly because some of them would soon be leaving to go on to Katraia, but mainly because Orla and Jon Carly were married.
Jed Cloud and his brothers had taken the Antelope and ferried everyone who wanted to go to Katraia. They had stayed for a few days to sample the peace and beauty of the place before their next mission.
Captain Dune had been sent to a secret base somewhere to help train fighter pilots. She would never fly in combat again. Hal and Erion had just returned from three day’s leave. Erion had spent her leave at Tranter’s base, lying on a beach of pink sand and swimming in his pool. It was nice to feel safe and she could let the world go on without her for a while.
Hal had received a small parcel and hitched a lift on a freighter the same day. He didn’t tell anyone what was in the package and he didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Starfire always wondered if he would come back, but so far he always had. He had just finished his watch and went down to his cabin. He opened his bedside drawer and took it out again.
It was a small thin, flat package, about the size of a playing card, wrapped in real paper and Hal sat on the side of his narrow bunk and slid his finger over the ‘open’ logo on the front. A hologram opened up and emerged in a silver frame. It showed Micah and Toola Jones, Ionna and two small children in a sunny garden. The adults were standing at the back and the children were holding hands in front of them. Hal passed his hand across it and it came alive.
“Uncle Hal, Uncle Hal, the little girl ran forward, dragging the boy with her, until their faces took up all of the screen. “Guess what? I got a new brother and two daddies now. We live in great big house and Daddy Mike sings us to sleep at night, and Daddy Toola taught me to ride a hover bike and…”
“That’s enough now, Paige.” The camera pulled back to show Micah, Toola and Ionna. “I’m in your debt again, Hal,” she smiled. She still looked thin, but the dark circles were going from her eyes. “Because of you I have the best job in the galaxy and a safe, happy home for Paige. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please ask. I mean it Hal. We will never forget this.”
“And come visit us,” boomed Micah. His voice reverberated across the picture and the frame buzzed slightly with the resonance.
“Yes, just come for a holiday,” added Toola. “I’ll pick you up in the Constellation wherever you wish.” There was some shuffling and the camera panned down to the two children again. Toola’s voice could be heard faintly in the background, prompting them.
“Goodbye Uncle Hal,” Jerrian Jones waved a chubby hand.
“Goodbye and thank you,” Micah, Toola and Ionna waved and smiled.
“Come and see us soon,” Paige blew a clumsy kiss and then the screen went dark. Hal pressed the ‘collapse’ tab and it folded away. He stood up, carefully put the photogram back in its paper covering and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans. He unclasped the heavy gunbelt and draped it on the side of his bunk so that the gun was within easy reach, level with his pillow. He lay down on his left side so that his right hand was just inches away from the gun butt, closed his eyes and went to sleep.
They came out of hyperspace and Raan and Starfire brought their corvette in to land. The ground vegetation was now distinctly blue and it looked like some roads had been cut through the forest behind the abandoned Starport.
The Rebel was in the main bay when Starfire guided the Grennig inside to sit beside it and cut the engines. The Grennig sank down on its landing struts and Tranter was waiting for them when they walked down the ramp. He threw Erion a cheeky wink that she pretended not to see and said, “Thirty Seven’s already in the guest lounge with Vermillion.
The silver, gold and copper robot stood up to greet them and bowed.
“Welcome again my friends.” She motioned to the couches and chairs spread about the large, modern lounge. “Please sit.” She waited while they positioned themselves about the room. “I have been hearing about your good news. All of the humans from the Trenee base have been successfully re-located.”
“Yeah,” said Tranter. “It went well.”
“The Galactic Police were not happy about the loss of their ships,” said Vermillion. “They have placed more warning beacons on all routes to Terrell and Serrell. They have been updated so they cannot be re-programmed. We will not be able to use that way in again.”
“You’re very quiet, Major,” said Tranter, the sudden expert on all things Erion.
“Pirates,” she murmured, suddenly, looking up. “Elkrist was hosting a big wedding for some pirates.”
“That is correct, Major,” put in Thirty Seven from Vermillion’s side. “They are the most impartial people I know. All are welcome into their clans; Aurians, Terrellians, Valasians. However, once indoctrinated into a clan, they are fiercely loyal to it, but in this instance the bride and groom were from different clans.”
“Does that mean they merge into a great big clan?” asked Raan.
“No, Captain, the happy couple chose which clan they want to be with. I think they like to keep the conflict going. They promised Elkrist to be on their best behaviour throughout the nuptials and I believe they kept their word until the last hour, when the couple chose their clan.”
“Do they support the Rebel Alliance?” asked Erion.
“She’s got a plan brewing,” Starfire nudged Raan.
“They are truly impartial, Major, but they have a strict code of conduct. Whilst at the Cantina, they followed its rules to the letter.” Vermillion put her head on one side.
“Do you have a particular reason for asking, Erion?”
“Well, it’s just that we hid in the Badlands for a short while to lead the Galactic Police away.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t go in that far,” said Raan. “We stopped right near the edge and I took a visual bearing of the way out.”
“You did that?” asked Starfire.
“Yeah,” he said.
“You’re not just a pretty face are you?”
“Stop it, you two,” said Erion automatically, half her mind somewhere else.
“Listen, Thirty Seven, do these pirates have a leader? Someone I could talk to about a mission?”
“I do not think they actually work for a living, Major, they operate more on a barter system.” said Thirty Seven.
“By barter, do you mean kidnappings and ransom?” asked Raan.
“At times, Captain. They very rarely kidnap people nowadays. Their expertise is in capturing ships and selling them for scrap, or ransoming them back to their owners.” Everyone turned to Tranter.
“No good looking at me,” he began, “I’ve never had any dealings with Pirates. Too scary.” Starfire scowled at him and he put up his hands in surrender. “All right, I fixed one up once that was battle damaged, but he paid me in diamonds and I never got his name.” Erion glared at him as well and he added, “It was a long time ago. I was just starting out.”
“Who�
��s in charge?” asked Erion, “Does anyone speak for them?”
“All the clans have what they call a General, although it is not a military rank,” said Thirty Seven.
“Could we contact one of these Generals? Do you think, Thirty Seven?”
“I shall ask Elkrist if she has any contact details, but my memory banks confirm that the wedding party was the first contact we have had with them. They are a very private franchise.”
“What’s your plan?” asked Starfire, helping herself to a coffee from the food replicator.
“I was thinking of hiring them to lead the convoy past the edge of the Aurian system to come in through the Badlands.”
“A convoy of Ten supertankers and us?” asked Raan in astonishment.
“Plus the Rising Star and twenty fighters, Captain,” she added. “This is going to end up in a firefight no matter how we play it.”
“You forgot the Rebel,” put in Tranter.
“No!” snapped Erion, fiercely, then lowered her tone. “You’re a shipwright, not a fighter pilot, Con.” He narrowed his eyes and took the matter no further but everyone present knew there would be heated words later on.
“Erion,” put in Vermillion, “I have grown to know Kaura quite well over the past few weeks. There is no way he would wish anyone to die for him.”
“Sorry, Vermillion,” said Erion, “this is what the Rebel Alliance does. We step in and help when there is no other way. We are all volunteers.” The robot lowered her graceful face. She could not show emotions as her features were sculptured into her brass and silver face plate, but she managed to convey her sorrow through her body language.
“I shall send a closed beam transmission to Elkrist at the Cantina,” said Thirty Seven, “I shall ask her for any contact information she has on any of the Pirate Clans. It should take no more than four hours to send and receive.”
“Four hours!” said Starfire, and even Hal looked up in surprise. “But that’s half the time it should take.”
“Kaura’s scientists and my Citizens have been working on a closed beam system that uses a completely different method of communication,” said Vermillion.
“Great!” said Raan, “we could do with the upper hand for a change.”
“I am sorry, but we have decided not to share this technology with anyone,” Vermillion hung her head. “We shall use it only at our discretion. In this instance, the purpose is peaceful and I shall allow it."
They all shared a meal and went outside for a walk through the forest so Hofolhdxhy could show them the little blue flowers that had taken root in between the huge trees. They seemed to have taken to the soil and were growing well, some of them climbing up the thick tree trunks. They walked back to the base and made their way to the visitor's lounge to await Elkrist's reply.
It came back negative. The Pirates had contacted her and had arranged everything. They had booked two floors of the Cantina hotel and paid for two nights of inclusive meals, drinks and entertainment. The bill was extensive and covered the cost of major repairs after a brawl had broken out, but they had transferred all the credits in full after the wedding, without complaint. There was no way the Cantina had of contacting them again.
“Now what do we do?” asked Raan.
“We try and think of another way to get in touch with them,” said Erion. “Someone in the Alliance must know something.”
“Perhaps the Trenee could help,” suggested Raan.
"Hal knows a lot of people," put in Starfire, looking round the room. "Where is Hal by the way?”
“He was here a minute a go,” said Raan. They all felt a slight tremor and Vermillion said,
"The main cargo bay doors have just opened." A distant roar and a whine followed and Erion looked up, suddenly.
“That was The Rebel taking off.” Erion lifted her wrist and spoke into her comlink. “Con Tranter, what are you up to?” There was no answer.
Chapter 17
“Who are you thinking of,” asked Tranter as he steered the sleek, black craft up through the clouds.
“I was thinking of General Honoray,”
“Yeah, Carl Honoray. Last I heard he was operating out of the Triviol Sector on the outer rim,” mused Tranter.
“That backs onto the Badlands, don’t it?” said Hal, quietly.
“It’s eleven hours away, though,” said Tranter. “This ship is fast but it’s real small. That means it’s got small tanks as well. If we get there, I won’t have enough fuel to get back.”
“We’ll just use your guidelines then,” grinned Hal.
“Yeah,” Tranter answered the grin with one of his own. “We’ll worry about the shit when it happens.”
The Triviol Sector was vast and it didn’t have much in it. There wasn’t anything big enough to live on without gravitational help and it was far away from just about everything. It was also subject to the occasional electromagnetic shifts that plagued the Badlands so it was rarely travelled. The Rebel slowed down to speed point one and meandered in and out of the asteroids and comets. What they were looking for would be well shielded and moved around. They would have to be lucky.
“What do you wish me to scan for, Con Tranter?” asked the ship’s computer.
“Any sign of life, Rebel. Anything out of the ordinary.” To choose a course, they tossed a coin, took a straight path and stayed on it, gradually leaving the Aurian system further behind. Hours passed.
“Con Tranter, my fuel is down to eighteen percent. We will need to refuel if you wish to go to light speed.” The generic voice spoke with a slight Terrellian accent that was neither male nor female.
“I hear, you, Rebel. Just keep looking.” Time went by.
“Con Tranter, my fuel is now down to eight percent.”
“I can see the gauge, Rebel. Believe me, I’m watching it like a hawk myself.” Tranter was starting to sound a little worried.
“Con Tranter, I am shutting down the engine to conserve life support.” Tranter looked to his left at Hal, who lounged in his seat with easy grace. “I never thought I’d go out this way, Hal,” he admitted. “It don’t seem fair, not now I found Erion.” The Rebel’s engine cut out and the ship started to drift along on its own momentum. He shifted in the pilot’s seat and turned on his left side so he was facing Hal. “Now we’re going to die, did you ever hook up with anyone? Seriously, I mean?” Hal shook his head.
“It wouldn’t be fair. Not in my line of work.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”
“Shit, we can’t even leave a marker buoy, ‘cos of stupid Pirate rules,” said Tranter, bitterly.
“You can leave a message for her in here though, Tran,” pointed out Hal.
“Nah,” wouldn’t work,” said Tranter. "If anyone found the Rebel they wouldn’t be able to get inside without fryin’ their brains.” They drifted along for several minutes and Tranter said, quietly, “We’re out of oxygen.” He looked puzzled. “We shouldn’t be, though.” They looked at each for a long moment, started gasping for air, then both of them slipped into unconsciousness.
“Wake up, Con Tranter!” He stirred and opened his eyes.
“Shit! What happened?” he croaked, pathetically. He had a monumental headache and rubbed his temples.
“Hal, are you awake, man?”
“Sure,” came a strained voice to his left. They both sat up.
“How come we’re still alive, Rebel?” asked Tranter. “I thought we ran out of air.”
“An alternative supply found us, Con Tranter.”
“What do you mean, found us?”
“Tran,” Hal motioned to the windscreen, where several annoyed faces peered in at them from a hover gantry about twenty feet away. They were keeping their wary distance, which meant they had already tried to touch the Rebel and paid the painful price. It looked like The Rebel was sitting in some sort of ship’s cargo bay.
“If they can’t touch us, where did we get our air from?” asked Hal
“I
have been leeching oxygen from their air supply, friend Hal.” Tranter and Hal shared a look. Only Vermillion called Hal that.
“Vermillion, is that you?” asked Hal. There was a short silence. “Vermillion, you stowed away in here somewhere didn’t you?”
“I cannot lie to you, friend Hal. “My consciousness is here in the Rebel.”
“What the …?” said Tranter. “Who’s walking around back on Manta Six then?”
“I am,” said Vermillion. "I am here and also on Manta Six."
“Bloody Hell!” Tranter was impressed.
“This is your new way of getting out and about, isn’t it?” said Hal.
“I must admit I found my adventure on Aquitaine quite stimulating, friend Hal. I attached my consciousness to The Rebel and now we are both here, in this shell. When we return, I shall transfer my memories from The Rebel and add them to my own.”
“You used our oxygen up, didn’t you?” said Tranter suspiciously. “You saw something and fired up the engines again.”
“Yes, friend Tranter,” the voice sounded quite pleased with itself, “my sensors caught a faint trace of energy but it was too far away for us to drift on our trajectory. I calculated your chances of survival at zero point zero, zero one on our present course, so I used all the energy we had in reserve for life support to start the engine and change our course.” Tranter and Hal shared another look.
“I think you just saved our lives, Vermillion,” said Tranter.
“Yeah, we owe you one,” muttered Hal.
“The debt I owe you cannot be repaid, friend Hal.”
“So,” began Tranter, “is the Rebel real? Is it in there too?”
“After a fashion, Tranter. The Rebel is the operating system of the ship. It is not self-aware as I am, but I believe it to be learning.”
“Fine time to let us know, Vermillion,” muttered Tranter.
“Unless you wish to speak to me specifically, speak to The Rebel when we are in this ship,” said Vermillion. “I am only a passenger here, just like you.”
Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture Page 21
