Free Project Starfighter by Stephen J Sweeney Page A

forward
and shaking their hands. “Nice to meet you. Are you all ready to
go?” he asked, looking about and behind Chris and Sid to see if
they had brought luggage other than the small case Chris held.
    “All set,” Chris confirmed,
having been given the nod from Sid.
    “This your ship?” Sid asked.
    It was a medium-sized vessel. Far
larger than the shuttle that had ferried Chris and Sid from the
surface, but considerably smaller than the liner that would have
transported them to Hail. This was more like a private aircraft in
size. It likely wasn’t all that cosy on the inside.
    “This is the Sauvignon Blanc ,”
Jim said proudly, slapping his hand on the hull of the white ship.
“Had her for over nine years, and she’s never done me a day
wrong.”
    Chris nodded. “So, you fully
understand our requirements and what all the risks are?”
    “Sure,” Jim continued to smile.
    “And you’re comfortable with
transporting us over to the Alpaca Group and attempting to gain entry
to a mercenary base?”
    “No problems.” Jim waved a hand
dismissively. “I was just heading over there, anyway.”
    “You were?” Sid frowned.
    “Oh, yes. They sometimes hire me
as a separate contractor, to perform little tasks for them. We’re
not best friends or anything, and we’re hardly likely to invite one
another out for a beer, but they know and trust me. It’s a
relationship that works.” He shrugged.
    “Fine,” Chris said, starting
forward as Jim operated a control to open a hatch in the side of the
ship.
    “Oh, about the price ...” Jim
began.
    “Four hundred is all we have.”
    “You and I both know that’s as
false as those two beards you’re wearing,” Jim said with a grin.
    Startled, Chris and Sid backed off.
    “Don’t worry, don’t worry,”
Jim said, displaying his palms. “Whoever you really are is no
concern of mine. All I’ll say is that those disguises might be good
enough to fool the drones and some of the less observant out in the
station, but not old Jim.”
    Chris glanced to Sid. “Fine. But
five hundred is literally all we really have. That’s the last of
it. Our tickets to Hail are non-refundable, so are only worth the
card they’re printed on.” He waved them at Jim.
    “Oh, I’m not looking to
overcharge you,” Jim told them. “I was going to say that if you
can’t get into the asteroid, I’d only charge you a hundred for
the return journey. Saving of three hundred!” He grinned and
chuckled.
    “Sounds fair to me,” Sid said to
Chris’ unspoken question. “Not like we have much of a choice at
this point, either.”
    “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