Project Starfighter

by Stephen J Sweeney

  “Fine,” Chris said.

  “On a more serious note, there’s been an increase in scrapping between the Immortal League and the other mercenaries around the Alpaca Group, so if things turn nasty I’ll be getting out of there. The fee will need to be paid regardless, since I can’t put my head on the block for two strangers. You guys cool with that?”

  “No problem,” Chris said. “We understand.”

  “Then let us not delay any further. Gentlemen,” Jim waved the two aboard, “your chariot awaits ...”

  ~

  Though equipped with a jump drive, it still took the Sauvignon Blanc well over twenty-four hours to make the journey from the space station to the Alpaca Group, Jim happily taking his time getting them there. The group was massive, made up of well over two hundred thousand rocks differing greatly in shape and size. Many were only tens of metres across, while others were several kilometres in diameter.

  Jim slowed the Blanc as they drew closer to the group, telling his passengers that this was where the computer guidance systems would largely take over. Negotiating the group was not something that he usually attempted himself, not after the first time when he had narrowly avoided ripping a hole in the side of his ship. Soon, they were drawing close to one of the largest of the bodies.

  “There you go,” Jim said, pointing to a specific part of the rock face.

  “Is that a deflector field?” Sid asked, sounding somewhat awed.

  “Yep,” Jim said. “A lot of people think that WEAPCO invented that. They didn’t, of course. Like most of their so-called inventions and innovations they simply stole it from someone else; in this case, it was actually from the mercenaries.”

  “Incredible to think they came up with that,” Sid said.

  “Hey, those mercenaries aren’t as dumb as some people think,” Jim said.

  While Jim and Sid seemed to be quite impressed by the field, Chris couldn’t really tell what he was looking at. The rock face of the asteroid appeared to be just that. He said nothing, however, feeling his nerves starting to get the better of him all of a sudden.

  What was he doing? Why was he here? He had narrowly avoided death on The Eye of the Storm, escaped being shot to pieces by a drone and its bots on the surface of Ceradse, nearly died when his hover came off the road, had broken his foot, almost been killed by the very man he had travelled to Tira to rescue, and now he had travelled to an asteroid group in an attempt to bargain with a group of men and women that barely had any loyalty to one another.

  Was he mad? Probably.

  “What happens now?” Chris asked, still unsure of how they were going to get inside.

  “They maintain complete radio silence at all times as they don’t like uninvited guests,” Jim said. “If you bear with me, I’ll send them the usual greeting.” The man fiddled with the console in front of him, and then waited.

  “State your name and business,” a man’s voice shortly answered.

  “Jim Barnet of the Sauvignon Blanc. I’m here to see Krass Tyler of the Wolf Pack. He is expecting me.”

  “Stand by to be scanned. Do not make any sudden course alterations.”

  Chris saw something beyond the Blanc’s meagre viewport light up. Dull and lifeless before, blending in well with the inky blackness of space behind it, the metallic object now shimmered with blue and white lights. It winged its way towards them, and Chris noted just as it disappeared from view how it seemed to have been almost pieced together from spare parts, taking on the appearance of wreckage or debris. He wondered if that was deliberate.

  “We are detecting two additional passengers on board your vessel,” their contact’s voice said. “Please identify them immediately, or turn your ship around. If you do not comply, you will be destroyed. You have one minute.”

  “You’re up,” Jim said to Chris over his shoulder, leaning out of the way of the console. “Tell him why you’re here.”

  “My name is Chris Bainfield,” Chris started. “I’ve come to meet with ... Krass Tyler. I have a business proposition for him, one that I can only discuss face to face.”

  “What sort of proposition?”

  “That’s for discussion between me and him only.”

  “Don’t be cocky, mate,” the voice of the channel growled. It then asked, “Are you a current or former member of the Immortal League?”

  “No, I don’t have anything to do with that cult.”

  “Are you working directly or on behalf of WEAPCO?”

  Chris chuckled pointedly. So many questions. “Absolutely not. And it’s actually because of them that I’m here. I’m a member of the Resistance.”

  “Hold on.”

  There was silence for a time, and Sid gave Chris a worried look. Jim appeared quite surprised by what Chris had said but added nothing.

  “Fine, you’re free to come aboard,” the voice on the channel came back. “You must declare all your weapons the instant you land. If you fail to do so, we’ll kill you. If we suspect that you have lied to us, and that you are indeed working for either WEAPCO or the Immortal League, we will kill you. Clear?”

  “Crystal,” said Chris.

  The connection closed without another word.

  “Friendly bunch,” Sid said. “Are you really sure about this, Chris?”

  “We’re here now,” Chris said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Um ... they could kill us?” Sid chuckled mirthlessly.

  “They would and all,” Jim added. “And based on the way that guy was going on, it sounds like they would probably find a way to do it more than once.”

  As Jim brought the Blanc’s engines back up and navigated the ship towards the asteroid, Chris finally saw the deflector field that Sid had spoken of. It was a near pure-black sheen on part of the asteroid’s body, taking on the appearance of a shadow. Easy to miss until you were up close and personal. He didn’t notice its distinct artificial texture until they were only a few metres from it ... and then they were in. An ever-widening twisting tunnel followed, eventually opening up into a far greater expanse.

  Chris gasped, as did Sid.

  There was a small city here, lying in the hollowed-out interior of the asteroid. Chris saw domes, buildings, what appeared to be a transit system, landing pads, and a number of other things. Construction seemed to be taking place, expanding and building upon what was already there.

  “How ... what ...” was all that Chris was able to say.

  Jim chuckled, looking at the two men. “Welcome to New Chile.”

  “There’s a city in here,” Chris said. “How is that even possible?”

  “The mercenaries have built it over the past thirteen years,” Jim said. “Around thirty thousand people live here, all governed by the mercenaries.”

  “By Tyler?” Sid asked.

  “No,” Jim said. “They have no real head. They power share. Yeah, I know,” he said, laughing. “Imagine that, eh?”

  “Are you going to take us to meet Tyler?” Chris wanted to know.

  “Sure,” Jim said. “Let me just set the old girl down and we’ll go and see him together.”

  ~

  Krass Tyler was a round ball of a man, so fat that it did not appear that his legs could still support him. That was perhaps why he now floated through the air in a specially constructed anti-gravity belt. He also appeared to sweat quite a lot.

  “Come to do my bidding once more, Mr Barnet?” Tyler growled.

  Jim smiled, cheerily. “You said you had some tasks for me.”

  Chris wondered how Jim managed to retain his sunshine attitude before all these scowling faces. Next to Tyler stood four others – three men and a woman. Like their boss, each sported facial tattoos that wove intricate patterns over their skin, though unlike Tyler they were quite skinny. Chris wondered if that said anything about New Chile’s social and political structure. Or perhaps it was that Tyler just didn’t bother to exercise or look after himself. Tyler’s face also appeared to have been injured
at some point in the past, the top right-hand side of his head covered in what appeared to be cybernetic components. Indeed, the man had an artificial right eye.

  “And who are these two?” Tyler asked, the iris of his robotic eye flexing as he looked over Chris and Sid. “You appear to have brought two old men with you, one of whom is a cripple.” He drifted forward, examining Chris and Sid close up. The other four mercenaries remained where they were, though they chuckled cynically.

  “We’re not old men,” Chris retorted.

  “Yes, I can see,” Tyler said, his good left eye narrowing as Chris began to remove the prosthetics and fake beard from his face. “What are you playing at, Barnet?” the fat man rounded on Jim. “Did you know?”

  “Don’t worry, they’re sound,” Jim said, watching as Sid and Chris revealed their true appearances. “Just two runaways from the Resistance. I wouldn’t have brought them here if I thought they would be trouble.”

  “Sorry,” Chris said to Tyler. “We didn’t have much choice, we were on the run. And it’s not a total lie, I am sort of crippled.” He indicated his right foot.

  Tyler’s expression remained grim. “Mark them!” he spat to his four subordinates. Their guns were up in an instant, marking Sid and Chris, who raised their hands in surrender.

  “Told you this wasn’t a good idea,” Sid said under his breath.

  “Don’t panic, Sid,” Chris whispered back. “It’s just a little misunderstanding.”

  Tyler’s attention was once again on Jim. “I’ve warned you before about this,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” Jim said, raising his own hands in submission, the smile finally fading from his face. “I took them at their word that their motives were honourable.”

  “Who are you?” Tyler demanded of the two young men.

  “Chris Bainfield and Sid Wilson,” Chris said.

  “Sid Wilson?” the tallest of the thin men behind Tyler said. “That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard that before?”

  “Sid Wilson, Chris Bainfield, please surrender yourselves immediately. I am authorised to perform an arrest in accordance with intergalactic law, for actions pertaining to planned attacks on the Wade-Ellen Asset Protection Corporation.”

  Chris looked at Sid, seeing his companion’s face grow ashen as they both heard the robotic female voice coming from behind them. The four men and women behind Tyler took a step backward, sweeping their guns to mark new targets, and Chris turned around slowly, hands still raised, seeing a drone approaching. A bot was also detaching itself from beneath Jim’s ship.

  “Where on Earth did they come from?” Chris asked.

  “They must have attached themselves to the Sovereign Blanc as it was leaving the station,” Sid said.

  “How did they manage to avoid being scanned?” Jim asked. “It detected Bainfield and Wilson.”

  “It appears WEAPCO have got themselves some new tricks,” Tyler said. “What the hell have you done, Mr Barnet?”

  “Sid Wilson, you are charged with hacking offences against the Wade-Ellen Asset Protection Corporation,” the drone continued. “You are charged with stealing company secrets, undermining the security of the Corporation, and endangering the lives of its employees, as well as breaking multiple intergalactic privacy laws. You are also charged with supplying information to the terrorist organisation known as the Resistance.

  “Chris Bainfield, you are charged with terrorism offences and working with the Resistance, attacking public and private property, and murder. You and your accomplices are to surrender yourselves immediately and prepare to be transported to Sol, where you will stand trial.”

  “Terrorism?” Chris said. “I’m not a terrorist! And I’m certainly not a goddamn murderer, either! WEAPCO are the true tyrants around here!”

  “I will not warn you again,” the drone said, the bot drawing up next to it, weapon struts deploying from its sides. “You and all your accomplices are to stand down and surrender immediately. If you do not cooperate, we will use force.” The drone itself emphasised its point by making its own weapon visible, a hatch on its front opening, from out of which a gun-like limb poked.

  Jim swore and began backing away from the machines and the seven other people near him. “I think I’m going to get going, Mr Tyler,” he said hastily. “I don’t need work right now. I’m good for another few months.”

  “Jim Barnet, please remain where you are,” the drone warned. “Mr Bainfield, Mr Wilson, please have your accomplices stand down.”

  “What do you mean by ‘accomplices’?” Tyler demanded frostily.

  “Accomplices – any of those who have been aiding the known criminals. Namely Krass Tyler, Jim Barnet, Lorrie Houseworth, Darcy Rodriguz, Clayton Vita, and Eve Vandenbosch.”

  Tyler and his four fellow mercenaries started at the utterance of their names by the drone. “We have a treaty with WEAPCO,” Tyler said.

  “The treaty is void,” the drone responded.

  “You sold us out, Barnet!” Tyler turned angrily to the starship captain.

  “No, wait, I never—” Jim protested.

  “Please surrender. You have ten seconds to comply,” the drone interrupted as smoothly as ever.

  “The hell we will!” Tyler shouted. “Blast ’em!”

  Chris grabbed hold of Sid and pulled him to the floor. His first instinct had been to run, but as he put pressure on his right foot and the pain had raced up his leg, he knew his only chance was to lie low and attempt to crawl out of harm’s way.

  The two were on the floor just as the first shots were fired, red and green bolts of energy flying back and forth between the drone and the bot, and Tyler and his team. Chris covered his head as Sid did, the pair trapped in the middle of the crossfire. There was an explosion of blood, a splattering sound, and Jim Barnet’s near-headless body crumpled down on the floor next to them. Chris shut his eyes.

  “They’ve got shields!”

  “Use phase disruptors!”

  What sounded like fizzing or hissing. A bright flare forced its way past his eyelids.

  “That’s got ’em!”

  “Take ’em down!”

  Chris heard a man start screaming, followed by a deafening crash as several rounds of energy weapon fire struck metal, and finally a heavy thunk. Chris opened his eyes a minute amount, enough to see that the bot had hit the floor, its anti-gravity system no longer functioning. Another few shots struck it before the glow of the few lit components dulled and the war bot fell silent. A few more thunderous crashes erupted right next to his ear and then the drone, too, was down.

  Silence.

  Chris opened his eyes fully, finding himself, as well as Sid, still alive and in one piece.

  “Eve, check those things aren’t on auto-destruct,” one of the mercenaries said.

  The woman, Eve, rushed forward to the machines, using some kind of implement to open panels on the bodies of each and examining their internals. “They’re clean,” she said.

  Chris gave a sigh of relief. He hadn’t known that drones and war bots could auto-destruct. It didn’t surprise him, though. He glanced to the drone that was lying close by.

  ‘XS-0017811’ the identifier on the top read. Son of a bitch! It was the very same drone from both the diner and the city. Unless the IDs on WEAPCO drones were all the same, this was the third time that Chris had come face to face with it.

  “Bastard,” he said, as he began to get to his feet. “Is that thing stalking me or someth— Oof!”

  “Alright, mate,” one of the mercenaries said, descending on Chris and pushing him back down onto the floor. Sid gave a similar grunt as another of the men descended on him, pulling his arms behind his back.

  “I think it’s time for you to stop pissing about and tell us what you and your friend are doing here,” the man restraining Chris said. “Did Mal put you up to this, as part of some sort of initiation?”

  “Hey, look,” Chris started, “I genuinely came here to request your help. I’m
here to talk to Tyler.”

  “Are you working for WEAPCO?” the man asked, forcing a gun against his head. “Because I’m only going to give you this one chance to admit it. Admit it now, and I’ll blow your head off, nice and quick. Otherwise, I’m going to take my time killing you.”

  “No, we’re not involved with either Mal or WEAPCO,” Chris said. “We were a part of the Resistance. Didn’t you hear the drone?”

  “It could have been lying,” the mercenary said, increasing the pressure on Chris to make sure he stayed put. “I noticed the buggers didn’t shoot at either of you.”

  “That’s because I’m not armed!” Chris retorted. “I’m assuming that’s the first rule of combat – kill your opponent before they can kill you.”

  “Lorrie’s dead,” Eve then said. The woman was crouched over the body of one of the mercenaries that had stood behind Tyler. The front of the man’s suit was covered in blood coming from where it looked as though several lasers had struck him. The blood was now collecting into a pool next to him, steadily increasing in size.

  Chris felt the grip and weight on him slacken, before he was hauled to his feet. There had been four casualties in the docking bay here today, Chris saw – two humans and two WEAPCO machines. He glanced down at Jim Barnet’s corpse. Poor guy had simply been doing a job, and today this had been his reward. Whether he had known the risks or not, there was no way he could have anticipated such an outcome.

  Eve gave Lorrie’s body one last look before standing up and striding rapidly over to where Chris was being held, raising her gun and pressing it against his forehead. Her eyes were fierce, rage surging through her body. She held her gun remarkably steady, far steadier than Chris’ legs, which were shaking in terror.

  “Okay, wait, wait, wait—” Chris began.

  “Shut your hole!” Eve shouted at him. “You think you can just waltz in here, let one of us take a hit for you, and then walk out alive, huh?”

  “I say we shoot both of ’em,” the man holding Chris said.

  “Too right, Dar,” Eve said, her finger twitching on the gun trigger.