Free Project Starfighter by Stephen J Sweeney Page B

rock face.
    “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