Starfire and The Planet Killer

by Christine Westhead

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Starfire and the Planet Killer

  Copyright © Christine Westhead 2017

  All rights reserved

  To my son,

  Scott Westhead

  Love him to bits

  Cover illustration by Reimund Bertrams

  Bertrams@das-wortgewand.de

  Chapter 1

  The tall Information Retrieval Building on Castillon looked like a shining steel pinnacle, flood lit against a black sky. Torrential rain lashed down and the wind howled and screamed around the tower like a demented banshee. It was the only structure on this dead planet apart from a flood-lit landing ramp that sat on an adjacent rocky plateau. It was linked half way up the side of the tower by a suspension bridge that swayed gently in the raging wind.

  Three humans and an android stood in the pouring rain, huddled together at the base of the tower, where its foundations disappeared into the side of the mountain. They all checked their equipment, oblivious to the harsh elements, their minds focused on the task ahead.

  "Everyone set?" asked Major Erion Dubois, waiting for affirmative gestures. Her deep, amber eyes were wide set and showed intelligence and strength of character. Her thick, copper hair was cut into a wedge and the fringe was styled so that it almost came to point above her classical nose. She was tall, slender and carried herself with proud grace. Some would call her beautiful, and her features were finely chiselled and perfectly formed. Striking would be a better term, for her face carried generations of high born breeding and her demeanour showed it. Her eyes glowed brightly with anticipation as she pulled up the hood of her long, waterproof parka and her honey coloured hands wrestled with the straps of a small pack as she settled it across her slender shoulders. She was a native of the planet Auria and had once been a proud, high ranking officer in the Aurian Marines.

  The Aurian system was the largest in the galaxy, and over the generations, the amber eyed, honey skinned Aurians had spread throughout it until they were the dominant force. After a military coup by the corrupt Galactic Police, Erion was branded a traitor and deserter and she fought the New Aurian Federation any way she could.

  "Raring to go, Major," answered Raan. He was taller than her by a head and lounged with his shoulder against a rock, seemingly unworried by the danger ahead of them. He shared her colouring, although his copper hair was a deeper shade and longer than regulations would have allowed, had he still been a Captain in the Space Marines. He had handsome features, a well proportioned body and a smile that could, and often did, melt a maiden's heart. The beginnings of that smile crinkled the corner of his mouth and it grew into a wide grin as she smiled back.

  "Good," she answered. "Let's get to it. Just make sure you blow those charges on time. I don't want to have to wait any longer than I have to." He nodded, settled his gun in its holster and straightened the heavy pack on his back. Standing upright from the meagre cover of the rock face, he thumped his companion on the arm.

  "Ready Del?"

  "Of course," answered Delta Ten, the stoic android. His colouring was also Aurian, with copper hair, amber eyes and skin the colour of honey. His flawless, human-like face always looked calm and composed and his movements were fluid and unhurried as he raised his left arm to study the small computer strapped to his wrist. His perfect features showed no emotions but his amber eyes burned brightly with intelligence. He tapped away at the computer screen, unmindful of the steady flow of rain that dripped from his hair and down his face.

  The last of the four stood tall and straight in the rain, his lean body protected by a grey suit of full space armour. He had fair hair and steel grey eyes and wore the armour partly because of the role he was to play, but mainly because he was Terrellian, one of the pale skinned fair haired race that lived on the planet Terrell. Under the planet would have been a better description, for there was nothing on its surface but ruins, contaminated water and wind turbines. The whole population lived underground and did not normally move from the safety of their subterranean haven. Because of this, Terrellians were rare off their home planet so Hal usually drew attention to himself. In the normal course of events, he didn't care much whether he was the centre of attention or not, but in this instance, it was important that he was taken for an Aurian Marine and the Space Armour provided a perfect disguise.

  All of them were wanted by the Aurian New Federation of Planets; Erion and Raan because of their supposed desertion, but Hal had been an outlaw since he was a teenager and there was more than one bounty on his head. It was better, thought Erion in this instance, that he remain in disguise. He lifted a gloved hand and touched the side of the grey helmet. Instantly, a visor dropped down to cover his face and turned black so that his sardonic features could not be seen. His armour was impervious to most elements, but the other three all sported all-in-one, waterproof waders that protected their boots and legs, and came up to their waists.

  The last checks made, the four turned to enter the large waste water duct, set at the base of the rocks. The rain had caused the normally thin trickle of water to expand so that it filled the lower quarter of the large round pipe, gushing out of the outlet like a brown, frothy waterfall. Delta Ten went in first, heaving himself up into the pipe and turning to stand in the knee deep torrent to hold out an elegant hand to Erion, who took it and hoisted herself in beside him. They both helped Raan and Hal inside, who were encumbered with heavy packs. It was freezing cold, pitch black and smelled of dampness and sewage inside. Erion and Raan switched on the pencil torches, built into their wrist com links and Hal switched on the lamp on his helmet. It wasn't much, but at least they could see something. Eerie noises drifted down the pipe, carried on a bitterly cold breeze from the building high above them. The walls of the steel tunnel were wet and slippery, but a smooth, shiny rail ran along its length at waist height to guide the cleaning droids that needed to unblock the vent from time to time. It served as a handrail for the three humans, but it was still hard going none the less. Delta Ten carried the heaviest pack, but strode purposefully ahead, his strong legs pushing aside the water as if it wasn't there. His infra-red vision speared the darkness and his sensors worked on full as they probed the depths of the tunnel, searching for booby traps or hidden alarms.

  "Call a halt for a minute," gasped Erion, after half an hour of steady trudging. Del was far ahead, and she called him on her wrist link, holding her voice down to a whisper. The three leaned gratefully against the walls of the tunnel and Raan looked at his wrist.

  "We're making good time," he said quietly. "I figure we're about half way up; maybe level with the bridge." The building's Main Reception was half way up the tower and was the first point of call for visitors after they landed on the Starport pad and took the short trip across the bridge. They had to get past it and hope everyone else they met assumed they had been vetted.

  Raan accepted a thin black cigarillo from Hal, who had tilted the visor upward from his helmet. The suit's designers had installed a handy light inside the face plate and the tall gunman's cold grey eyes were illuminated in its yellow glow. He lit his o
wn small, thin cigar and passed it over to Raan, who lit his own from it, sucking the acrid vapour into his lungs with a grateful sigh. They didn't speak for a few moments and leaned against the curved walls of the pipe, savouring the simple pleasure of standing still. Delta Ten sloshed towards them, motioning with his head in a curiously human gesture. Erion smiled to herself. The prototype android had been the pride of the science department until fate had taken a hand and thrown the odd group together. In the time that he had been with them, Del had become more human in his behaviour. His designers had inbuilt a desire to please in his programming, which had the effect of making him copy the emotions of his comrades in a way that the robots of the Aurian Federation could not match.

  "There is an access chute ahead, Major," he began. "It is not on the plans we have, but I have calculated it should bring us out three levels above Main Reception."

  "That'll be a relief," she gasped. "It should give us a chance to rest up and dry out." They had planned to take the tunnel up to the highest maintenance level that showed on their stolen plans, then split up and take their chances on reaching their selected targets. Del turned his head suddenly, his hand held out for silence.

  "What is it?" snapped Hal, throwing his cigarillo into the murky torrent.

  "I am picking up signals from a maintenance droid," answered Del. "It approaches at some speed."

  "Shit!" muttered Raan, loosening the gun in his holster.

  "No wait," hissed Erion, "if we destroy it, they'll know we're here."

  "Can we out run it to this vent of yours?" asked Hal, snapping shut his visor and adjusting the pack across his shoulders.

  "If we move quickly," affirmed the android, striding ahead. The three staggered behind him, pulling themselves up the gentle slope against the flow of water. The pipe turned left slightly, and just ahead of them, they could see Delta Ten standing at the top of small, drop-down ladder.

  "Either I'm getting used to this," began Erion, "or the water is slowing." She looked down as she spoke, at the thinning trickle of sludge between her feet.

  "We must hurry," urged Delta Ten. "There is a blockage in the pipe above us and a maintenance droid has been sent to clear it. If it succeeds in doing so while you are still here, the force of the water will sweep you away." He was turning a wheel in the ceiling of the pipe as he spoke. A round hatch dropped down, showering them with debris and dust as the android slid back down the ladder. He stood with cupped hands and hoisted first Erion, then Raan and finally Hal, up onto the lower rungs of the ladder. He was half way up it himself, his head just appearing through the hatch, when there was a dull roar from further up the pipe and gallons of filthy, brown water cascaded over him. His strong hands gripped those of Hal and Raan as they slowly heaved him out of the torrent to lie full stretch on the metal floor. He sat up and checked himself over, saying, "I thank you for saving me; however, the delay caused by my rescue may have jeopardised the mission. Water from the pipe has landed on the seal sensors of this hatch. The maintenance computer may now be informed."

  "It never rains but it pours," said Erion dryly, wriggling out of her waterproof clothes and rolling them up in a bundle. They appeared to be in a utility room of some kind. The far wall had several large, riveted pipes snaking from it and was dotted with dials and wheels.

  "This is the water treatment room," explained Delta Ten.

  "So," Raan looked up at the massive wall," dirty water goes in and clean water comes out."

  "That is correct, Captain."

  "So I'm guessing a fraggin' big tank is on the other side of this?"

  "Not on the other side of it, Captain," began the android, "This is one wall of the tank itself."

  "So," Raan delved in his pack and brought out a couple of charges, "when we blow this place, they'll get their water from here to put out the fires?"

  "Unless they have other water containers, I would say so, Captain." Raan smirked and placed a couple of charges on the largest pipes, where they joined with the wall. "This should slow 'em down then. I've set the timer fives minutes after the main ones go off."

  "A good start, Raan," smiled Erion.

  She wore the stylish black and silver uniform of a high ranking Federation official and the badge on her left breast claimed her to be 'Lt Cmdr. Break. Galactic Police'. She extracted a comb from her pocket and teased her copper hair into shape. Hal took off his heavy pack and delved inside, pulling out the pieces of two federation carbines. He quickly assembled them and passed one to Raan, who accepted it without comment and checked its load. With a last look at herself in a small mirror, Erion nodded to herself and sprayed herself and Hal with a deodoriser to remove the fetid smell of the access pipe.

  "Point us in the right direction, Del," she began, "we have to get to the main computer." Delta Ten delved inside his pack and fished out a stout, metal case with a Federation seal. He snapped the chain link tight around Hal's wrist and took his and Raan's wet outer clothes. He shoved them into the pack and flung it into the corner, where it slid behind a pipe.

  "Right then," began Erion, "everyone set?" Hal nodded and flipped the blast shield from his helmet down and darkened the visor again. The dark grey metal of the space armour, combined with the black face plate, made him look even more cold and menacing. He slung the carbine over his right shoulder then the two of them made for the exit hatch.

  "See you on the landing pad," began Raan, "in forty minutes."

  "Don't be late, flyboy," smiled Erion. She schooled her features and stepped out into the corridor with Hal at her side.

  "We must set the charges and be clear within thirty minutes," said Delta Ten, seriously.

  "I know the plan, Del," answered Raan, sarcastically. He slung the carbine over his shoulder and bent to pick up the pack full of the explosives. Delta Ten was already at the hatch, waiting to go. Raan left the room without a backward glance, slapped his hand on the hatch mechanism and walked quickly after the departing android.

  An aircar access was at the end of the deserted corridor and Raan passed his hand over the ident on the wall to summon one. They stepped into the spherical shuttle when it arrived, the brightness inside making a welcome relief from the dim, bulkhead lighting of the maintenance tunnels. Aircars were a standard form of transport throughout the Aurian System, and Captain Raan, late of the Aurian Marines, was practiced in the art of hotwiring them. His nimble fingers tapped out a message on the keypad and the little globe shot downward inside its tube, veered sharply to the right, then carried downward again. The gravity motors outside the shuttle kept it upright and safe, and on-board computers worked out the quickest route, taking the aircar to the nearest destination along a complex maze of steel tunnels. Raan studied the map on his wrist com and was quietly pleased when aircar door opened to reveal a deserted crew lounge, just above ground level. This was their intended objective and proved that their Intelligence was up to date. If this information was correct, there was all probability that everything else they were depending on for this mission would be accurate as well. Raan studied the crew quarters and crept into the room, listening and watching for any sign of movement.

  Standard Federation bunks with built-in ladders were stacked ceiling high against one wall and the opposite wall carried food dispensers, vanity units and machines for cleaning uniforms and equipment. The centre of the room was filled with comfortable easy chairs, recreational games tables and computer desks. They had timed their arrival to be three hours after the regular night guard change and the only occupants were asleep in their bunks. Adjusting his nasal filter, Raan crossed the room, his soft boots making no noise on the rubber floor. He gently sprayed a knockout compound over the sleeping forms ensuring their unwilling silence. Inside fifteen minutes, Raan and Delta Ten, suitably attired as maintenance technicians, walked purposely up a metal staircase towards the main generator complex on the next floor.

  Three hundred and fifty levels higher, Erion and Hal entered the main information control room, almost
at the top of the tower. A huge, armed Galactic Police officer in a gleaming, black and silver uniform moved forward from his post behind a small podium and raised his hand for Erion's pass. She handed it smartly to him, showing nothing of her feelings and prayed that the pass was up to date, for they were often changed without warning. The beefy young man, who couldn't have been older then twenty, studied her pass intently and tried to look important. Erion, who was a good judge of human nature, ventured a little smile and the young man grinned back.

  "It's my first week," he said, proudly. "Galactic Police! Mum's dead pleased." His arm caught the side of a computer pad as he handed back her pass and he tried, and failed several times, to catch it before it reached the floor. Erion looked down as he bent to pick it up and caught sight of a brand new, metal lunch box on the floor, together with a drink flask that had a tacky 'World's Best Son' label on it. He stood up, hurriedly and placed the comp pad on a shelf under his little podium. He leaned forward, pressed a button on the inbuilt console and spoke after clearing his throat,

  "Lieutenant Commander Break to see you, Sir."

  "Idiot!" snapped a waspish, nasal voice through the comm. "How many times must I tell you, Ensign; you show command staff straight in. One more mistake, and you're out! Understand?"

  "Yes Sir!" The young man's face glowed red with embarrassment and he pressed a button on his console. The main control room doors opened on the wall to their left, and Erion walked inside with Hal marching behind her, his face still hidden behind the tinted visor of his helmet. The room smelled of hot computers and new carpet, and buzzed with electronic chatter. It was well lit and narrow, with two rows of computer operators that seemed to go on forever into the distance. They sat back to back with just a small aisle between them, wearing eye shades and earphones, facing a wall of screens. A semi circular work station sat just inside the double doors, facing the operatives.