“What! Dink! You get those sucking crewmen yet so we can get this shit out of here and leave?”
Dink came walking back from the piles of junk. “Hell Boocoo. I tried looking for them but they just disappeared into the junk piles. I can’t find them anywhere.”
Turning and pointing his pistol at the crane operator high above. “You up there. Start taking this junk off the pile.” When the crane did not move he turned to Mark. “If that crane is not moving in one second you are dead motha fukr!”
“Turning up towered the crane Mark shouted. “Go ahead and pile the junk over there and be careful about it we don’t want to damage any of the Torpedoes.” Mark patted one of the sensor torpedoes and winked at the man peering out the cab down at him then walked over to one side as the crane started digging into the pile again and carefully setting each claw full of sensor torpedoes down in the middle of the hold where Mark had indicated half way between the junkman's loader and Tramptown, taking his time. A glance at Tramptown showed him several bodies running for the ladder installed at the other end of track town grate that the Junkmen did not know about.
After several loads, with a shield wall growing cutting off sight of the elevator from the pirates, another junk truck landed on the ramp outside the hold and a few seconds later Pop came walking around the new pile with a Blast rifle taking the junkmen and their laser weapons by surprise. “Stop right there dirt bags" He pointed his blast riffle at the junkman Dink only some 30 feet away. "If any of you move this one dies. Now drop your weapons.”
Mark turned and yelled. “No Pop! Another truck has arrived; get down.” The laser beam shot from around the cab of the loader hitting Pop in the shoulder. As Pop was hit, his Blaster blew Dink in half sending body parts and guts out across the deck as Pop fell to the deck.
Mark started running towered Pop. “He is ok Mark.” Mickey said. “His wound is not in a vital place and was cauterized by the beam.”
Mark started to slowdown hesitating for a second but then speeded up again as he started yelling. “No Pops. Don’t die please don’t!” Mark yelled as he ran “No, No!” The Blast rifle lay behind Pop where it had landed from its recoil while the dead Dink’s rifle lay some 30 feet in front of him. In a straight line from Mark to Pop.
“Pop! Don’t Die!” Mark screamed as he came up to the laser rifle and kicked it up over the new junk pile across the hold and between the piles his men had fled into. Then skidded to a stop beside Pop and taking him into his arms. He could feel the weapons centered on him being careful to ignore the Blaster beyond the old man as he made sure he was not bleeding and whispered. "Stay down and play dead you old fart until I tell you to move." Pop opened one eye and smiled then closed it letting out a moan and went limp.
Mark noticed the crane changing course just enough to roll over one of the junk men. “Farman!” He said under his breath. “No! Not yet. Good idea but not yet. I will tell you when.” Mickey. Does anyone from the crew have the rifle yet?”
“Yes Mark. Junk man Boocoo is walking towered you with his laser pistil dead center on you. Pops is not badly hurt but will require hospital care soon."
“Good, tell the crewman with the riffle to get into a good position to take out the driver in the truck and be careful.” Mark started to get up with Pop in his arms but staggered trying to run but tripped and as he fell to his knees he laid Pop down onto the deck being careful not to let his head hit as he let him slid several feet where he stopped covering the Blaster.
“You killed him you Bastard!” Shouted Mark turning toward the junkman Boocoo as he climbed back onto his feet and took several steps toward the junkman. “You Godstar damn bastard. I will make you pay for that you….”
The Laser streak hit the deck in front of Mark stopping him cold. “Now pretty boy you and all your medals can get your butt over to that pile and start cutting the torpedoes out of that crap with your torch. And don’t get cute. That torch of yours can’t hurt me much unless I am stupid enough to get close to you. And I can guaranty that I don’t miss no matter how far away I am. I can still kill you.”
Mark stumbled over to the pile and started cutting but after a few minutes his torch sputtered and quit. Taking it apart he started working on it. Boocoo ran over and yelled. “What the hell are you doing dick head? Get back to cutting I am in a hurry.”
“I am fixing it moron and if you’re in such a hurry get your guys over here and help.” Looking past Boocoo Mark could see Pop still lying on the deck in the same unnatural position but thanks to Mickey he could see he was breathing and still alive.
Taking a step closer, Boocoo looked at the torch in pieces and then hit Mark alongside the head with the laser pistol. “Get it fixed now.” Then walked off yelling at the truck drivers to get over there and help.
“Mark; the man in the truck at the hatch is coming into the hold. Do you want the crewman with the rifle to move to keep him covered?”
“No. Not yet. Stay under cover and keep the hatch insight incase reinforcements arrive.” Lowering the hand holding the torches diffuser, reflector mirrors and focusing crystal he had taken out of the torch; he dropping them down into the junk and then reassembled the torch. “Mickey; have the other men take their torches apart the way I did and discard the parts. It will make them into laser pistols with good range but they will have to use them as a fire hose at full power in short bursts so be careful. The sights suck.” Holding the torch down to hide it from view he pulled the trigger burning the front frame that had held the diffuser which divided the beam into a dozen smaller defused beams outward into the small ring of mirrors to be refocused again forward into a spot beam less than a foot in front of the muzzle of the torch. Without the diffuser the solid uncut beam cut through the front torch frame with a hissing bang and flash while it cleared a path for the beam that was now deadly for at least a hundred yards.
Turning Mark looked to see if anyone noticed and then started cutting pipe being careful to keep the beam at low power and pointed down so no one could see how far it penetrated. “Mickey, tell me when the rest are ready to go. When I say, Farman will drop a pile on one of them and during the confusion we will make our moves. Tell me if they got and understand the plan?”
Within minutes he got the go ahead from everyone and he gave the order for Farman to dump the load on the man standing guard with a laser riffle by the loader. Then an air truck landed on the ramp and out climbed a dozen armed men with riffles in their hands and saber swords on their hips. As his heart jumped into his throat he thought of ordering Farman not to dump but as he started to yell the load fell onto the guard and Mark had no option but to go for it. Raising his torch.
"Freeze." Mark said. His high pitched voice half squeaked. Getting control of himself he tried again. "Freeze don't move." He repeated in a voice an octave lower than he normally talked. Almost croaking.
All three men on that side of him turned and started laughing at him as they pulled their big laser pistols out of their holsters. Mark’s heart was already pounding, terrified; without thinking he stepped back to run while jerking the trigger cutting the man nearest him in half as Mark started to run backwards in panic, but fell over a piece of equipment, slicing the beam across the second man without thinking as he fell. Trying not to shit his pants. With the trigger still pulled in a death grip as he hit the deck and rolled, the beam continued to slice across the pile of junk and across the third man some ten feet away and into the hull next to the pile before Mark could let up on the trigger.
A laser rifle pulsed across the hold into the group of men just getting off the airtruck. Quickly joined by several smaller constant beams waving across the truck and the men as they took cover doing little damage other than making some nasty burns on the men's armor as they hit.
Finely coming to rest on his butt starring at the men he had just killed in surprise and shock. A clang as the fourth man some 20 feet behind him dropped the peace of junk he was lifting got Marks attention. Twisting
his body around in horror at the possibility of getting killed himself. Mark saw the fourth junk man firing his torch at him with the hot bright point only a foot in front of the torch. The man realized his mistake and threw the torch at Mark and started running for cover as he pulled his pistol out of its holster. Reflexively Mark jerked the trigger again holding it down as he chased the fleeing man across the pile of junk with the beam. Finely catching him as he got hung up on a piece of tubing sticking out. The fraction of a second delay was enough time for the beam to catch and kill him slicing him in half as well. Starring at the upper half of the dead man hanging on the tubing in shock for several second; a laser pistol pulse hit the pipe next to him and Mark rolled over jumping to his feet trying to get away to cover himself, tearing his uniform in the process.
Boocoo standing in the middle of the hold some 50 feet away fired at Mark repeatedly as he did his best to dodge while he headed for cover someplace deeper into the pile. Flashes of light flickering at the corners of his glasses Mark did not even notice as he fired his torch pistol wildly. Sometimes in the direction of Boocoo. But like the pirate he had just cut down he ran out of space as he got caught against a couple of pipes with space too small for him to get through. Stuck Mark looked around just in time to see the junkman Boocoo with a big ear to ear grin fire at him one last time as his body blew apart from a Blaster at close range. Pop sitting where he had fallen over the blaster a few minutes before. The now dead Boocoo's legs still standing upright on the deck for a few seconds before falling over against each other to remain frozen up right.
Mark fell as the pipe holding him wedged in place was cut off from Boocoo’s finale laser pulse. Landing on top of one of the Torpedo casings the junk men had been after.
Crawling out of the junk pile Mark could hear and with Mickey’s help see the fire fight between his crew and the junk men on the other side of the piles of junk with the loader blocking the little roadway from the ramp into the rest of the hold. The men in the truck cab that had just arrived were high enough to keep the ships crewmen pinned down while the other men that had climbed out of the trucks cargo box already on the deck snuck around the end of the pile past the loader towered Marks crew to take them from the side and behind. Tearing his filthy dress whites even worse in his hurry to get out of the junk pile Mark ran over and grabbed the blaster from Pop’s out stretched arm as he sat on the deck and then over to jump onto the loader using the cab as cover. He already knew where the laser fire was coming from thanks to Mickey as he jumped up around the cab only to have a hail of laser shots suddenly streak past him. He dropped back around the cab and sat down as sweat pored off of him. Suddenly scarred to death of getting shot as the weapons streaks flew around the loader.
“Mark; the junk men are sneaking up on your crew from their blind side. They are only seconds from getting killed if you do not take out the men in the truck cab and then the ones on the other side of the loader.”
“Shit Mickey. I killed those guys. It was so easy. I just shot them dead. Godstar I almost got killed a minute ago too.”
“Yes Mark. Next time fallow my directions and you will not get stuck in a dead end. If you move quickly you can take the truck cab out before they even see you. Then move as I direct in your glasses to keep you safe under cover and take the rest of the junk men from behind before they can kill your men on the back side of the junk pile. Follow my directions and you will not expose yourself to fire from the men firing from the ramp and junk by the hatch.”
Mark looked around the corner breathing hard and then quickly jerked back safe behind cover as a laser streak hit the cab over his head.
“Mark you are running out of time. Your men have only seconds to live if you do not take out that truck and then those men from behind. I would not ask you if you could not do it without a good possibility of you succeeding safely. Remember how you felt about your friend dying when you thought it was your fault. You will feel a lot worse if you let these men die. You are the only one that can save them.”
Marks phone beeped on his wrist. Looking down in shock at it he said. “Hello?”
“Hi Love. I am ready to get sworn in as an ensign. Can you get here in five minutes? I would have called earlier but they have had me so busy this morning taking tests I have not had a chance to breathe.” The shriek and bangs of the laser beams streaking across the hold and then the air collapsing back into the vacuum made it hard to hear her talk. “What is going on there? Are you watching a Star Wars movie instead of working? You are, aren’t you? I can hear the sound track. So that is what officers do all day. Watch movies.”
“Ah, no, but I wish! Ah. I really need to go Dian! I …I am scarred babe... but if I don’t, who will? And. I. Oh Shit... I am scarred. Bye love!” His hand reached over to tap the phone off but missed hitting his wrist instead. “Shit Mickey you Bitch. I guise I have to try something don't I. Besides, I can’t live forever.” Standing up and walking around the cab into full view of everyone, he raised the Blast Riffle and carefully aimed at the truck cab as a laser hit the cab next to him.
“No Mark! Not completely out from behind cover. You were supposed to just peek out around the cab to fire.”
Mark fired holding down the trigger letting the blaster do what it was designed to do. Take out hard points and the men and weapons behind them as a dozen rounds streaked into the cab shredding it and the men inside until the front of the Airtruck cab exploded across the deck silencing the laser rifles around the hatch for several seconds. The recoil knocking Mark back around the cab.
Getting his balance back Mark raced out around then up across the front of the cab and down the other side of the loader deck firing at the men sneaking around the junk pile to get behind his men. This time prepared for the recoil of the gun as lasers started streaking from the junk men at the ramp and hatch, hitting the loader around him.
He pulled the trigger blowing up the tail end charley of the group going around to take the Queen’s crewmen from behind. He walked the blaster balls half way up the line of men and women before they realized they were being attacked from behind. Suddenly Mark was in a duel with 3 well-armed Junkmen as lasers streaked from their weapons passing only inches from Mark as he continued to pull the trigger hitting them one at a time as he continued to walk back along the loaders open frame. Mickey yelling at him to get down under cover.
An airtruck flopped down on the ramp with a ringing thud, screeching as it slid towered the edge without even slowing down. Mark ignored it as he walked, raking the men around the back of the pile blasting them one after another and the junk around them into scrap sending armored body parts flying.
Reaching the end of the loader’s bed and finding no more targets, he turned around to take on the moving truck and the men jumping from it before they could disperse making it impossible to retake the hold. No one was firing at him anymore as he whipped his blast assault gun around and aimed at the moving truck and froze. He saw the few remaining junk men around the hatch punching laser holes into the truck’s sides and even hitting and knocking down the armored men running from it and Mickey yelled in his ear “No Mark! That is your truck and Marines.” Changing his aim he fired at the men shooting across the ramp from the protection of the hatch combing as he started walking forward again along the top of the loader still in plain sight.
The screaming fans on the truck never slowed down as it slid toward the side of the platform, smoke coming from the holes in the side. Mark continued firing at the hidden junk men as he walked forward along the side of the loader, suddenly calculating calm as he took them out one at a time. The last of the marines leaped out the back leaving several behind hit by the lasers from the side as the truck disappeared over the edge. Another truck flopped down in its place as the first marines scampered out of its way dragging the wounded and lifeless bodies as the junkmen fired at them from the trucks parked around the inside of the ramp and the sides of the hatch.
The second truck slid towered t
he edge with more marines leaping out of the stern. Mark heard the elevator hatch being blown behind him as marines came charging out of the chain hatch to one side half covered in junk. Having to pushing junk out of their way. Snipers leaned out from the firing ports high in the inner hold and Tramptown looking for targets with only an occasional target to shoot at with all the junk blocking the open cargo hatch. Only Mark was in a position to take out the junkmen behind cover without charging directly at the laser riffles and he tried his best as marine after marine went down from the lasers penetrating their hundred year old armor.
But finely with the marines from the chain hatch flooding the cargo hatch, the platform was quickly taken as the last surviving junk men finely threw down their weapons. Mark walked back across the loader. The blaster at the ready until he realized nothing was left to shoot at and then just stood there with the butt of the heavy weapon resting on his hip pointing up as he looked around with his other hand on his hip surveying the outer hold as the marines fanned out around the hatch. Satisfied the battle was finished he turned, walked back across the front of the cab and stepped off the loader’s deck dropping the 6 feet to the hold’s deck and walked over to Pop. He wanted to run but he was suddenly just too exhausted as he slung the Blast rifle over his back. Kneeling next to Pop he could see how white he was with shallow fast breaths. “Did you get them Mark?” Whispered Pop.
“Yes Pop we got them all…Mickey how is he?”
“Not good Mark he is going into shock. He needs help immediately. I don‘t think his heart can take this.”
“You did good son. I’m proud of you boy. Make a good Captain some day you will. Your father Captain Adams would be proud of you.” His eyes closed as the last words came out breathless.
Scooping the frail Pop up into his arms, Mark started running for the elevator yelling for the Marines coming out to get out of his way as he approached. But a marine in armor at the back did not get out of the way. Instead he slipped a roll off his back pulled a lanyard dropping it to the deck beside him then grabbed Pop from Marks arms as he ran by spinning around and laying pop on the fully inflated medical stretcher as Mark tumbled to the deck sliding a half dozen feet toward the elevator before stopping sprawled across the deck. A half dozen more Marines came charging out. Cursing, Mark turned around struggling to his knees and realized that the marine had an IV in Pop already with an oxygen mask over his nose and was spraying medical foam into the laser wound while two other marines lifted the inflated medical stretcher up and gently slid into the elevator right after another half dozen marines charged out. Mark watched the open door elevator slide up and to the right as it started its climb to the side then up past the empty hole left by the blasted elevator hatch as another elevator slid into replace it from the down shaft with its door already open allowing the marines to come charging out before it had come to a stop.
Tramp Wars: The Enemy Page 43