Project Starfighter

by Stephen J Sweeney

  Chris remained silent as he waited for Tyler to finish detailing his plan. Tyler said no more.“That’s it?” Chris asked. “That’s your plan?”

  “The start of it.”

  Chris looked from Tyler, to Eve, to Sid and Phoebe, and the others in the private room of the DNA Lounge. “Um ... that’s not exactly a plan. WEAPCO’s navy is huge. When the Resistance met them in Spirit, they brought a force more than ten times that of our own.”

  “The Wolf Pack is significantly larger and more powerful than you remember,” Tyler said. “What with so many lost cubs floating around,” he turned to look at some of those who wore different tattoos to those of Eve, “someone had to give them a new home.”

  “It’s still not enough,” Chris said.

  “And your own plan was better? How?” Eve asked. “You were prepared to jump into a fighter all by yourself and speed straight into the middle of them. You’re no William Benedict. You wouldn’t have lasted more than a couple of minutes, at most.”

  “Yes, yes, okay,” Chris admitted, retreating behind his glass. “I saw the flaw in that plan sometime ago, if I’m being honest. We’re now focusing on trying to rescue Phoebe’s sister, who is being held prisoner in Murdar. Unfortunately, I know that rushing directly into that system would be utter suicide, and so we’re looking for another way.”

  “They have your sister?” Tyler asked Phoebe. “How do you know she’s still alive?”

  “I ...” Phoebe started. “She sent me a message; a thought, an indication that she was alive. She was in pain.”

  Eve rolled her eyes, and sat back with her drink, a smirk on her face.

  “Interesting,” Tyler said, indicating for one of the men nearby to refill his glass. He would never be able to reach the jug himself, not without knocking over the entire table. “They’re obviously using her to get to you. They will probably have her hooked up to some neural contraption or other, using your shared thoughts to pinpoint your location. If it were me, I’d be keeping your sister alive until they found you, and then bump you off together.”

  “Thanks for letting me know,” Phoebe said in anguish.

  “Just telling you the truth, sweetheart.”

  Tyler took the glass he was handed, downed some of the swirling contents, then returned his attention to Chris. “But back to the contract. Taking down WEAPCO will be more complicated than it appears on the surface. This is bound to become a war of attrition. I want to lure their forces out and strike them down little by little. I want you to help us there, boy. That starfighter of yours, with its time space dilation whatsit, will give us an advantage.”

  “And what do we get in exchange?” Chris asked.

  “We’ll be helping you with your crusade,” Tyler said. “To see the defeat of WEAPCO was your overall goal, wasn’t it? Freedom in the galaxy, and the ability to do as you please, without having to answer to anyone. You get what you want; we get what we want.”

  “I think I know what’s actually going on here,” Sid broke in. He had remained silent since the three had sat down, and had also been downing the Galaxy Smash at quite a rapid pace. Chris got the impression that he was now full of Dutch Courage and believed himself about to say something quite profound or rather elegant. Chris just hoped it wouldn’t be something really stupid.

  “This isn’t just about WEAPCO,” Sid went on. “This is about the power vacuum that’s been created within the ranks of the mercenary groups, isn’t it? I’ve seen the Wolf Pack and the Jousters working for you here, as well as a few Galaxy Jumpers, and Unseen Shadows. They were standing at the bottom of the stairs when we came up here, and there’s one over there in the corner. I think I might have spotted some of the Blue Moons and Hydras, too. I don’t see any of the Death Angels, Blackwater Riders, or Omega Crusaders, though.”

  Chris saw a scowl began to form on Tyler’s face. Chris knew he should be warning Sid to stop speaking, but he was too interested in hearing what Sid had to say.

  “You’re trying to establish yourself as the single Head of the Family,” Sid said. “You said that there are only two heads of the family left. You’ve got perhaps five or six groups here, but that still leaves several hundred highly-trained guns for hire without a leader. The seconds-in-command will likely have been killed in the battle in Spirit, too, since many of them would have been entrusted with commanding the Centurion. The ones left out in the cold won’t all go freelance, either, because the work is harder to come by and there would be too much competition. Better to pool their resources wherever possible.

  “But if the opportunity allows, why have two separate groups, when you can be in control of one huge one and effectively affirm yourself as the largest military power second only to WEAPCO? And if you were to blow WEAPCO aside, who would there be to answer to? The winner would effectively end up ruling the known galaxy, as there would be no one to stop them.

  “Which makes me wonder, how do we know we’re not better off supporting the other guy?”

  Chris gave a start as he heard the whine of plasma pistols powering up, the click of shotgun and other weapons being cocked and trained on them. He felt Phoebe and Sid press against him, the two squashing into him. As it turned out, Sid had said something quite stupid.

  “Sorry,” Sid said. “Think I took it a little too far.”

  “You think?” Chris said.

  “I still have dibs, right, boss?” Eve asked, looking at Tyler, gun trained on Chris.

  “Okay, okay, easy, easy, easy,” Chris said, looking around at the men and women aiming guns at him, showing them his open palms, and trying to gesture for them to lower the weapons. “We’re still neutral here. We’re not picking sides just yet.”

  Tyler remained where he was, casually rocking his glass, listening to the ice cubes clinking within. He fixed Chris with one small, beady eye, the iris of his bionic one contracting and flexing.

  “Besides,” Chris said, looking at the leader of the Wolf Pack. “You also gave me your word that no harm would come to us.”

  “Lower your guns,” Tyler instructed. “That’s another reason that we want you – Mr Wilson here is a little sharper than most others. If you can think that quickly on a battlefield, your skills will be very welcome.”

  “Listen,” Chris said to Tyler, “we’re not looking to get involved in a power struggle.”

  “You might not have much of a choice,” Tyler said. “The other guy in this case is Mal, and he has a habit of simply taking.”

  “Mal?”

  “Mal the Magnificent, Mal the Immortal.”

  “Yes, I’m very familiar with who he is. I never knew that you lot once worked together. No one bothered to tell me during my stay.”

  “‘Working together’ is a rather lofty way of putting it,” a woman with white tattoo markings said.

  “Mal was basically a control freak,” Eve said. “Despite being a part of the Family, Mal and his followers always believed that they were better than everyone else, and that he alone should be in control of everything. It was obvious to many that he was secretly plotting to take down the other Heads from the inside, and take over command of their groups.”

  “Hard to believe that none of the rest of you were thinking the same thing,” Sid muttered, from behind his glass. Tyler fixed the hacker with a cold stare, and Sid said no more.

  Eve continued, “Then one day he disappeared off somewhere, taking a handful of his closest with him. No one saw hide nor hair of him for two whole years. He wasn’t replaced as Head of Family during that time, but none of us thought we’d ever see him again. We figured after so long without any contact that he was dead and gone. Then he came back. Turns out he’d headed off on some quest or other and found the Ten Commandments, or some nonsense like that. He and his newly formed Immortal League then became the most bloodthirsty group there ever was. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve long since ceased being a mercenary group, and are now a cult. Some others don’t look at it that way, though, and still consi
der him to be one of the Heads of the Family.”

  “Who?” Chris asked.

  “Anyone who doesn’t like the boss man,” Eve said, tilting her head towards Tyler. “The enemy of the enemy and all that. They’d rather join that cult than work for us.”

  Chris puffed out his cheeks. “Sounds like this League could turn out to be just as bad as WEAPCO.”

  “No, boy,” Tyler said in a low voice. “They’ll be much, much worse. You couldn’t have failed to notice the lot outside, recruiting. We’ve recently discovered that their numbers are well into the hundreds of thousands now, many of whom are proficient in combat skills, as well as starfighter piloting. If this keeps up ...”

  “We’ve got to stop him,” Phoebe said.

  “Ha!” Tyler said. “We’ve tried to kill Mal more times than I’ve had hot meals.”

  And that’s quite a lot, judging by the size of you, Chris thought to himself.

  “But after each and every time we think we’ve finally gotten rid of him, the bastard somehow pops back up again.”

  “Nothing we do makes a difference,” Eve growled. “It’s like ...”

  “He’s immortal?” Sid said.

  “Yes,” Tyler said. “Like he’s immortal. Like his damn League promises to make its followers.”

  “No one can ever get near him, either,” Eve said. “We’ve tried infiltrators, assassins, and all sorts, but they all just come back in boxes. Several boxes. Each.”

  “Understand this, boy,” Tyler said, looking at Chris, “we need to kill him. We have to kill him. He must be stopped. Permanently. They might seem harmless on the surface, and a bit of a nuisance, but believe me when their Pilgrimage begins they’ll make WEAPCO look like a dream by comparison.”

  “And what makes you think that killing him will end the cult?” Chris asked. “What makes you so sure that they won’t just carry on without him?”

  “He’s their leader, the only one who can lead them to Heaven. The League began to haemorrhage members over the period that they thought he was dead. The others ran off and hid, to patiently await his return. Shame he didn’t stay away for long.”

  Chris looked at Sid and Phoebe, who nodded their agreement to his unspoken question. “Fine, we’ll help you to find a way to dispose of Mal,” Chris said. “But I’m curious,” he added swiftly, as Tyler grinned, “what would you do if you won? As Sid said, with WEAPCO and Mal defeated you would control the biggest army in the galaxy, standing completely unopposed. You never actually answered Sid’s question, either. So tell me straight, Tyler – can we trust you? Are you a man of your word or not?”

  Tyler laughed. “I do like it when you try to act all aggressive, boy.”

  “Chris! Tyler, can I trust you?”

  “You’ll just have to,” Tyler said.

  “That’s not exactly a compelling reason,” Chris said.

  “That’s the only one you’re getting. And what about you? Let us say that your little crusade against WEAPCO is successful and you overthrow them. What would your first act be? Would you have a crown made and a throne built for you to sit upon, to oversee your subjects from Earth?”

  “My job would be done,” Chris said. “I would go back home and return to my normal life.”

  “As a pizza delivery boy?” Eve asked. The room fell about laughing.

  Chris didn’t react to the mocking. “I will have done what I set out to do, and the people of the galaxy would be free to create their own futures. Their elected governments would care for them, and their voices would be heard.”

  “How very noble of you,” Tyler said. He downed what remained of his drink and set it down on the couch next to him. “So, do we have a deal?”

  Chris mulled it over. Tyler had kept his word each time in the past – training him, offering him and Sid his protection, acquiring the Firefly. There was always the possibility that this time the man was lying, but at this point Chris could see few other options open to him. Besides, better to keep Tyler close by, where he could keep an eye on him.

  “Okay,” Chris said.

  Tyler beckoned Chris forward to shake on it.

  “When is our first strike going to take place?” Chris asked.

  “I will contact you in the next twenty-four hours. We will hit the shipyards first. It’s now time for you to go. This place is reserved for invited guests only.”

  Eve grabbed hold of Chris and began to frogmarch him out of the VIP area, a couple of Tyler’s heavies pulling Sid and Phoebe up from the sofa and doing likewise.

  “Tyler, one thing,” Chris said, pausing just before he was evicted from the private area. “If you double cross me, I will kill you. I’ll do it personally; I won’t hire someone else to do it for me.” He expected anger from the mercenary, but Tyler merely reached casually for another cigar and lit it.

  “Said the man who never took a life the whole time he was at New Chile,” Tyler said. “But there’s always a first time, and you’d be right to try. It’s in the contract, after all; the contract, I’ll remind you, that we both shook on.” Tyler waved a hand, and Eve bundled Chris out.

  ~

  “Nice way to treat a business partner,” Chris said, as they came to bottom of the steps.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Eve said. “Would you have preferred this?”

  Before Chris could react, Eve grabbed him and kissed him firmly on the lips, forcing her tongue into his mouth. Chris did not respond, but neither did he pull away, letting her finish.

  “We’ll say that was from the boss man,” Eve said, once she was done. “Not that he’s as good a kisser as me, you understand. Beards, you see. Far too hairy.” She looked at Sid and Phoebe next. “Nah, not my type,” she said, before turning on her heel and starting back up the stairs, wiggling her hips as she went. “See you later, Chris,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Does she always treat him like that?” Phoebe asked Sid, once they had pushed their way back across the dance floor, and were heading towards the docking port, to return to the Manx.

  Sid grinned. “No. Usually she kicks him in the nuts.”

  Chapter 20

  “Do you think we can trust Tyler?” Phoebe asked.

  “The way I look at it, we’ve now got three major problems,” Chris said, as he piloted the Manx back to the Dodger. “WEAPCO, who we’ve always known about; Mal and his group, the Immortal League; and Tyler himself.”

  “So, you don’t trust him?” Sid said.

  “It’s pretty hard to, completely. He’s a mercenary; he works for the highest bidder. He and his group could be with us one day, and against us the next. This whole Mal business has me more troubled, though. He sounds like a psychopath, worse than WEAPCO. What we don’t want to end up doing is dethroning one tyrant to put in place another.”

  “We need to ensure that Tyler wins this little war, then,” Phoebe said. “But in such a way that he can’t take all the power for himself.”

  “In that case, maybe the best thing for us to do would be to get rid of all three of them,” Sid said. “But we should deal with WEAPCO first.”

  Chris sighed. This was getting more complicated than he could ever have expected. “Yes, that would be the best move. I wouldn’t put it past Tyler to have already considered that, though. And knowing that we have Phoebe on our side, with her ability to control machines, will have made us just as dangerous as WEAPCO and Mal in his eyes.”

  The Dodger’s AI lowered the shields as the Manx approached, and allowed it to enter the cargo hold, Chris setting the craft down next to the Firefly.

  “I think we should lie low until Tyler wants us,” Chris said, as the three exited the ship. “In the meanwhile, let’s continue to find out everything we can about the Zetaman Facility. It might also be worth our while digging up what other information we can about Mal and his followers, just in case there’s something we can use that Tyler missed. I have a feeling that Mal’s League will be loyal to the death.”

  Sid and Phoebe agre
ed, the two heading off to the bridge together, leaving Chris on his own in the hold. The feelings of uncertainty came creeping back to him at that moment, and he wandered over to a low munitions container and sat down, trying to organise his thoughts. There were too many vying for pride of place, however, and he found himself overwhelmed by the tasks he was now facing. WEAPCO, Tyler, Mal, rescuing Ursula ... Lying next to Chris on the container was a small spanner-like tool. He picked it up, examining it for a time, before hurling it across the hold in frustration. This was pointless; he should just give up now and head back to Hail. He had bitten off far more than he could chew.

  “Why so glum?”

  Chris became aware of a figure moving gracefully in his direction, a flowing white dress just brushing the floor, two sandalled feet briefly revealing themselves with each step.

  Athena stood in front of Chris for a time, looking down at him, though he did not meet her eye. “Chris?” she spoke again.

  “I was just thinking,” he said.

  “What about?”

  “A lot of things.”

  Athena moved around to his side, sitting down next to him. She stared down at her own feet as Chris gazed ahead without a word. “You can talk to me, you know,” she said. “I am your friend.”

  Friends? Oh, fantastic. Now the thing thinks that we’re enjoying some sort of special relationship together. The Firefly still claimed to be sentient, capable of reason, of self-awareness, of consciousness, of emotion. Chris doubted that it could have any notion what the word ‘friend’ meant.

  “I’m not sure you would understand,” Chris said, hoping to fob Athena off.

  “Try me,” she said.

  “I’m struggling with second thoughts,” Chris said, after further silence.