Project Starfighter

by Stephen J Sweeney

  “I’ll take him,” Eve said, grabbing hold of Chris’ arm and marching him out of the bay.

  Chris stole a look back at the Firefly as he was escorted out. It was a sentient WEAPCO fighter, yet it didn’t seem to have any loyalty towards them. It claimed it was ‘free’. He wondered whether or not it actually understood the meaning of that word. Perhaps that was something that he could use to his advantage.

  “You’re taking me the wrong way,” Chris said to Eve as the woman navigated him through the corridors. “The workshop isn’t over this side.”

  “Wrong, Mr Bainfield. I’m taking you the right way,” Eve said.

  Chris felt a spike of panic. The woman was escorting him with her gun drawn, using it to push and prod him in the direction she wanted. “Hey, look, if you’ve gotten everything you want from me, then there’s no need to—”

  “Don’t talk, just keep walking,” Eve said.

  “You need only blindfold me and take me back to Ceradse station.”

  “Are you seriously going to make me repeat myself?” Eve asked, tapping him on the side of the head with her pistol.

  Chris fell silent, allowing her to lead him to a part of the stronghold he knew was given over to the mercenaries’ living space. From the little he had seen of them, they were self-contained units with all the modern conveniences. Quite roomy, clean, and more luxurious than he would have expected, given the state of the rest of the place.

  Eve ordered him to halt outside a door, which she opened. “Get in,” she said.

  Chris did so without question, finding himself in one of the living spaces. It contained a couple of sofas, a kitchen area, a well-stocked bookcase (that came as a bit of a surprise), a television, and a few other knick-knacks.

  “I’m not sure I should be in—”

  “Shut. Up.” Eve locked the door behind her. “In there. Go.” She pushed Chris in the direction of the bedroom.

  “Is this your place?” Chris started.

  “Go!” Eve said, shoving him more forcefully. She holstered her gun and then pushed him down onto the bed the moment he was beside it. When he was flat on his back, she began to clamber on top of him. He reached out to push her off, but she merely grabbed his hands and pinned them down.

  “You really have grown some sharp claws since you got here, haven’t you?” Eve purred. “I thought you were going to turn out like your friend – all shy and dull and boring. But you’ve proved me wrong. And your piloting skills are impressive, too.”

  “And you find all of that attractive?” Chris put to her.

  “It’s a combination of things,” Eve said, releasing his hands, getting off the bed and starting to undo her jumpsuit, using the zipper at the front.

  Chris said nothing and watched as she slipped out of the suit, letting it fall to the floor. The woman was completely naked beneath it, her skin a creamy white, decorated with numerous red and black tattoos. Eve watched Chris closely as his eyes soaked up every inch of her body.

  “Like what you see?” she challenged.

  Chris swallowed. “Yes.”

  Eve smiled, and came forward, Chris sitting up to meet her. She bent close, and he moved in to meet her lips. As he did so, she slapped him, hard.

  “Ow!”

  “No kissing.”

  “Fine,” Chris said, sitting back. “You’re in control.”

  “Good,” Eve said, pushing him down and straddling him, and tugging at his shirt. “For the next hour, you’re to do exactly as I say, understand?”

  “Hour?”

  Eve smirked. “It had better be an hour, Mr Bainfield.”

  ~

  An hour and three minutes later, Eve picked up Chris’ clothes and flung them at him.

  Chris paused before putting them back on. “I’m sorry I got your friend killed,” he said.

  “Pillow talk? Seriously?” Eve half-scowled at him. “The sex might have been great, Mr Bainfield, but I still don’t do that. Besides, Lorrie was an arsehole.” She swatted the rest of the topic away with a flick of her hand. “Right, get dressed and get out.”

  Chris began tugging his clothes back on, wondering if Eve’s cold-hearted posture was merely a smokescreen that the woman presented, to keep anyone from getting too close to her. No one was that unkind.

  There came a jingle from Eve’s bedroom table, where a digital clock and a copy of The Once and Future King rested. The display of a comms device of some kind was flashing, requesting attention. Eve attended to it.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Eve, put your clothes back on and get down to the workshop,” came the gruff voice of Tyler. “Wilson has got the drone talking and he says it’s not good news.”

  “Will be there in a few minutes,” Eve said, signing off and starting to pull her jumpsuit back on. “Get a move on, Bainfield. Tyler’s pissed.”

  How can you tell? Chris wondered. The man always seemed grumpy as far as Chris was concerned.

  Ready, Eve shoved Chris out of her living quarters and along to the workshop, where Sid was sitting next to the drone with a worried look on his face. Tyler, Dar, Clayton, and a woman whom Chris did not recognise were clustered around the war bot and the drone. The machines were both hooked up to some kind of holographic display and other seemingly random pieces of equipment, cables feeding in from all over the place, some linking the war bot to the drone.

  “Hooking them up worked?” Chris asked, nodding to the two machines.

  “That’s all it took,” Sid said. “Cable from the war bot to the drone. After that, they were chatting away like best buds.”

  “Ah, so I was right abo—”

  “Do you two ladies want to talk about this some other time?” Tyler spat. He was certainly more ill-tempered than usual. He looked at Sid. “You said the special relationship is over. I need details.”

  “Sid, what’s happened?” Chris asked.

  “Listen for yourself,” Sid said, turning to the drone. “XS-0017811,” he said, using the machine’s full identifier. “Please describe Mission 3412 brief.” The holographic screen the drone was hooked up to briefly churned with data before the drone responded.

  “Mission 3412 concerns the eradication of all known major mercenary groups, including the Wolf Pack, the Blue Moons, the Hydras, the Death Angels, the Blackwater Riders, the Omega Crusaders, the Immortal League, the Unseen Shadows, the Galaxy Jumpers, and the Jousters.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Tyler gnashed his teeth. He looked as though he wanted to punch someone. When he briefly swivelled in his team-mates’ direction, all of them took an immediate step back. “When was this thing supposed to take place?” he asked of the drone.

  The thing sat in silence.

  “It only works if I talk to it,” Sid explained. “The drone believes that I am a part of the war bot and am speaking on its behalf.”

  “SO ASK IT!” Tyler roared, causing Sid to recoil.

  “When is Mission 3412 scheduled to take place?” Sid asked, once he had collected himself.

  “Any time within the next seven days.”

  Tyler’s fury reached melting point, and the huge man began ordering Sid to dig deeper and discover everything that he could. Sid eventually requested that the drone give him a full summary of everything that was supposed to take place.

  “Mission 3412 is the follow-up to Mission 712. Mission 712 was the first stage in herding the most influential and dangerous mercenary groups into a single position. It created a so-called ‘special relationship’ with the Wade-Ellen Asset Protection Corporation. The groups would be given immunity from the Corporation’s policing measures, unless direct attacks were brought against the Corporation. Even then, responses would be measured and never exceed that which might otherwise be expected. Ensuring that the mercenaries are all happy to work together as a union is key to the success of this mission. This can be achieved by subtle corporate, political, and military means. It is anticipated that the mercenaries may choose to set up home in the Alpa
ca Group, rather than construct their own starbase. This will not prove difficult for us to overcome.

  “Mission 3412 will then commence. With all the mercenary groups in place, the Corporation will bring a large strike force to the Spirit system and take out all the groups in a single coordinated strike. Fighter groups will deliver nuclear warheads to the asteroids housing the mercenary groups, eliminating their core forces and the leaders of the group, otherwise known as the Heads of the Family. It is possible that the groups may seal themselves in the asteroids, to escape termination. If this is the case, mass drivers will be used to remove the asteroids from the group and hurl them at Joldar, Spirit’s only uninhabited planet. To lull concerns amongst the public, the incident will be reported as having been a test for a new asteroid defence program.

  “The previously listed mercenary groups represent a significant threat to the Corporation, and their growth has exploded in the last twenty years. It would be wise to take them down before their numbers can expand beyond reasonable containment.

  “That is all.”

  Silence filled the workshop, the five assembled mercenaries looking from one to the other.

  “Bastards,” Tyler said, eventually. “Those absolute bastards. So much for our ‘special relationship’.”

  “What do we do?” Eve asked.

  “We respond. Now. Today,” Tyler said.

  “Shame we only just found this out now,” Chris said. “The Resistance would have been grateful for your assistance. Probably would’ve helped a great deal, too.”

  Tyler snorted. “You and your so-called Resistance were bringing knives to a gun fight. We have far more powerful assets at our disposal than you can imagine.” He turned back to Sid. “See if you can find out more about what their proposed tactics are. I want a list of every ship, bot, drone, and person involved in it. Start with the total numbers.”

  “XS-0017811,” Sid said, “give me a list of all the involved units and commanders.”

  “No,” the drone responded.

  “No?” Sid asked. He glanced uneasily at Chris. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  “I mean no.”

  “XS-0017811, give—”

  “No. Stop asking.”

  Eve pulled her gun, training it on the machine, as did Dar, Clayton, and the other woman. Tyler began to hover back, putting distance between himself and the insubordinate drone. Chris couldn’t help thinking that the leader of the Wolf Pack had the right idea.

  “XS-0017811,” Sid tried one more time, “I need access to the proposed units that are to be used in Mission 3412.”

  The drone began to make a strange noise. It sounded as if it was laughing. Maybe it was. Lights, once dead, illuminated and began blinking on the front of the drone. Garbage began to fill the holographic display, reams and reams of non-interpretable computer code scrolling rapidly up the screen. The thing rotated to face Sid.

  “Sid Wilson,” it said, “you are wanted for crimes against the Wade-Ellen Asset Protection Corporation—”

  “KILL IT!” Tyler shouted.

  Eve and Clayton responded instantly, emptying their guns into the drone. The attacks proved ineffective, the energy blasts slowed and absorbed by the shield that the machine had already erected about itself.

  “Sid, pull the plug!” Chris urged, as the mercenaries began to reload.

  Sid lunged for the cables connecting the drone to various outlets, yanking them hard. He had only succeeded in freeing half of them when a hatch on the front of the drone flopped open, a fork-like implement emerging and jabbing Sid in the chest. The sound of shorting electrics came, and the man was flung across the workshop. Sid was back on his feet in mere moments, panic written all over his face.

  The woman whom Chris did not recognise was quick to take Sid’s place, pulling at the cables. She freed the last one just before the drone applied the shock-fork to her, also. The attack was far fiercer and more forceful than the one turned against Sid, and the woman slumped to the floor, electrocuted. It didn’t appear to have killed her; she was still breathing, if a little shallowly.

  Though no longer connected, the holographic screen abruptly changed, the garbage that had once filled it vanishing and being replaced by the same set of characters, repeated over and over:

  HA HA! HA HA! HA HA!

  “You’re all going to die!” the drone added. Its lights extinguished.

  Sid swore. “It’s invoked final action!”

  “Final what?” Chris asked.

  “Never mind! Out, quick!” Sid cried. “It’s going to blow!”

  The workshop’s occupants didn’t need any further encouragement, the group sprinting for the door.

  “What about her?” Chris asked, pausing at the entrance to the workshop and looking back at the fallen woman.

  “She’s dead,” Tyler said.

  “No, she’s not,” Chris said.

  “Yes, she is,” Eve said, yanking Chris across the threshold, Tyler sealing the door behind him. A second later the explosion came, rocking the base and knocking those standing off their feet. Alarms began ringing and the corridor in which Chris and Sid stood became bathed in maroon hues.

  “This means war,” Tyler growled.

  “What’s the plan, boss?” Dar asked.

  “I’m going to call a meeting of the Heads of the Family. Then we’re going to hit those double-crossing, backstabbing bastards right where it hurts. Eve, prepare the command room. Recall everyone this instant, regardless of group. Dar, Clayton, get me a report on the Centurion.”

  “Boss?” Dar asked.

  “Just do it,” Tyler said, sounding as if he was trying to prevent his anger from boiling over into an uncontrollable rage. “Go, all of you.”

  The three scampered off. Chris and Sid watched them go.

  “As for you two,” Tyler said, rounding on Chris. “We are even, our debts to one another are settled. You are no longer welcome here; I am no longer protecting you. I want you gone within the hour. If after that I find that you are still here, you will be killed.” The man began to hover away.

  “What about the Firefly?” Chris called after him.

  “Take it! No one wants it here! If you don’t, it will become my property. And trust me, I will destroy it.”

  “Right, come on,” Chris said to Sid, as he started to hurry for the bay where the Firefly was being stored. “We have to get out of here and get over to Hail before everything kicks off.”

  “You think WEAPCO are already on their way?” Sid asked, looking quite apprehensive.

  “No,” Chris said, shaking his head and glancing back towards the workshop. “Given what just happened in there, I think there’s a good chance they’re already here.”

  Chapter 8

  “How did you know that that drone was going to explode?” Chris asked, as he and Sid hastened through the mercenary base, dodging people running in the opposite direction.

  “I was monitoring its running services,” Sid said, puffing heavily. “Everything shuts down when WEAPCO drones and bots activate their self-destruct. Once it’s started, it’s impossible to stop. They also lock everything down and can only perform one final action.”

  “Why?” Chris asked.

  “To stop anyone from getting near their stored data or overriding the self-destruct, I guess.”

  “No, I mean, what’s that last action thing all about?”

  “Pass,” Sid said. “It might be like a last phone call or something. Perhaps it is so that they can upload data or do something else important. Once the action is taken, they can’t do anything else.”

  “Hey, where are you two going?” a man called, as Chris and Sid arrived in the bay where the Firefly was being stored.

  “My debt to Tyler is paid,” Chris said, as the man waved a wrench threateningly. “The Firefly is mine.”

  “News to me,” the man snorted.

  “Yeah? Want some more news? You hear that alarm? That was due to one of the drones in the worksho
p going up. WEAPCO are planning to blow this place to kingdom come in the next twelve hours or so. They’ve been herding you all here on purpose, to deal with you all at once.”

  “You what?” The mechanic looked sceptical.

  “You can ask Tyler if you want to. He’s convening the Heads of the Family to talk about it right now. Eve is preparing the command room, and Dar and Clayton have been instructed to find out the status of something called ‘Centurion’.”

  At that, the mechanic swore, dropped his wrench and started out of the bay, calling to others to follow.

  “Hey!” Chris shouted after them. “How do we get out of here?”

  “Use the fighter,” came the response.

  “Great,” Chris said. “Think she’ll be able to open the bay doors?” he asked Sid, nodding to the Firefly.

  “I doubt it,” Sid said. “Unless it’s got some special tricks up its sleeve, the fighter won’t have any knowledge of or way of interfacing with the bay.”

  “Guess I’ll just have to ask her if she can.”

  “Ask her?” Sid looked at Chris, somewhat bemused.

  “I’ll explain more later,” Chris said. “First things first – let’s get out of here.”

  “Chris, wait. Where are we going?”

  “Hail.” Chris made once more for the Firefly. Sid caught his arm.

  “Hold up. Is it a two-man fighter? Room for a pilot and co-pilot?”

  Chris paused. Ah, hell. “No,” he said.

  “Well, I’m not sitting on your lap, mate,” Sid said.

  “I’m not keen on sitting on yours, either,” Chris retorted. He glanced about the bay, seeing a number of other craft here. “You’ll have to borrow one of those,” he said, indicating them.

  “W-what?” Sid appeared suddenly very unnerved.

  “Sid, look – when we used to chat, you told me that you were really into your flight sims. You said you preferred outer space, as you didn’t have to worry about gravity and there was less for you to fly into, by mistake. If you did okay with those, you’ll be fine with one of these.”