Project Starfighter (9 page)

“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.