“Hey what the hell are you doing? Put those back dirt bag.” said a Lieutenant at the main engineering control console at the center of the control room.
Mark ignored him as he continued to slide the name tags out of their slots. His heart started beating in panic for ignoring an officer's order.
“I gave you a direct order ensign and I expect to be obeyed or you are going on report.”
Stopping for a second he closed his eyes trying to remember the chain of command list of rules from school. And then hoping he was right, he went back to taking the last of the names off the wall. Mark turned around and smiled at the Lieutenant. Chucking the name tags in the trash with his.
“I will have you busted back to civilian ass hole for ignoring orders do you hear me pee brain. That is if you ever get out of the brig shit head!” Standing at the terminal the Lieutenant was enjoying himself as everyone in the control room watched as Mark stared at the lieutenant.
Mark was shocked at the Lieutenant; especially since he had believed he was one of the officers that had liked him. Opening the hatch behind him he backed into the Engine room and slammed the hatch behind him. Godstar! If that was how someone that liked him treated him. The treatment from the MP-3 crew was going to be vicious. Swallowing he checked in his mind again the chain of Command and hopped he remembered the rules right. That being put in Command of an engine room made his rank second only to the Engineering Chief. At least temporarily.
But then he noticed the bulk of the engine towering far above into the distance. It was his engine to pamper and repair and even improve with the new kits. Kits he suddenly realized where sitting in crates scattered across the deck around the big engine. A red crate caught his eye and he walked over to it. The packing list on the top listed all the crates in the order. With the red crate numbered one, also containing the directions for installation. Steel bands around the wood crate secured it for shipping. Finding his tool belt missing from his hip, having left it on his bunk, he look around spotting several tool boxes standing open. Taking a cutter out of the nearest one he walked back to the crate.
“Hey ass hole that is my cutter bring it back” Shouted the 2nd Class Engine Mate owner.
Mark wanted to crawl at the sound of the order from someone he had been taught in no uncertain terms to follow the orders from in the past more deeply and painfully than any officer ever did. But he fought to ignore the deep grained erg to jump in abeyance, forcing himself to finish cutting the steel bands. But then he realized he needed something to pry open the wood crate when the last band parted with a zing. Taking the cutters back to the guy he smiled. “Thanks I need to borrow your pry-bar.”
The 2nd class sneered at him slamming the tool box shut as he grabbed the cutter. “Get your own Collins.”
Mark walked over to the other open tool box and as he bent down. The 2nd class kicked it shut.
“You are not welcome here Sir.” He said with a smile as he bent down and locked it.
Straitening back up Mark looked at the man. Then turned around and headed for the tool cage housing all the big tools needed for working on the engine.
A 1st class took two steps and slammed it shut locking it with the padlock chained to it. “Just leave Sir. You are not wanted here. We don’t need some lame specked half blind sorry excuse for an officer telling us what to do. You may not see something and get hurt.” The First Class sneering at the veiled threat.
With no keys, all Mark could do was leave feeling half mad and half ready to cry with frustration and embarrassment. He turned towered the control room hatch and stopped. Not wanting the control room crew to see him running with his tail between his legs, even though the armored port was packed with faces and turned around towered the heavily armored outer emergency escape hatch leading into the Truck deck. Then he spotted a length of pipe. Despair turning to rage he picked up the pipe and hefted it in two hands swinging it around getting the balance and feel of it then headed for the crate. A couple of men standing near the crate fled as he swung and hit the crate sending wood splinters flying from the corner of the box. Another swing and the side of the crate fell open. Another and the top popped off. A couple more swings and a large mettle case sat unpacked on a wooden pallet. Pieces of wood crate scattered around the Pallet and engine room. Tossing the pipe across the deck to where he had found it Mark unfastened the clamps and opened the case. Finding a package of memory slides and printed books. Mark straightened up and headed for the hatch.
“You can’t take those. They belong to the engine room.” The 1st class started for Mark with his hand reaching out.
Mark pulled the package to his chest wrapping his arms around them and looked at the man; sneering more than smiling. “It is one thing not cooperating with the dooly assigned commanding officer of the space. But do you really want to spend brig time and get busted back to spaceman for interfering with, let alone touching an officer. You cannot be that stupid. Or are you?” Mark did not move as he stared him down fighting down tears and the erg to run away as fast as his legs would carry him.
Finely the man backed off turned around and went back to work, opening his tool box and started rebuilding one of the old fusion injectors that were always wearing out and leaving them stranded between the stars.
Mark left shutting the foot thick heavy hatch behind him then leaning against it, breathing hard as tears streaked down his cheeks. He could not believe all the hate directed at him. There had to be a reason, something he did wrong. Had to be his fault.
“No Mark it is not your fault. The Chief has stacked the deck as they say. But you can overcome this. You did good taking the manuals, organizing your thoughts with just the right words and starring down the first class. You can take control of the men and the engine room and get what needs to be done, done. But you need to get control of yourself first before you can command respect and control those around you.”
“And how the Hell am I supposed to do any of that.” Mark fought to stop the tears from welling up in his eyes.
“First; remember you did get the speck package for the conversion out of the engine room and second you get control of yourself and then you start looking and acting like an officer and a gentleman and not some out of place junk yard dog scarred of his own shadow. Then you get the keys or a torch.”
“But I have been through a battle or have you forgotten that already. Almost got nailed on the mess deck. I don‘t want to fight my own men.”
“So what; the hold battle was in the past. And fighting your own men is half of an officer’s job. You just use your mind and not your fists. Now let's get me implanted into the Computer core.”
“Some friend you are.”
“Yes! I am your best friend and don’t forget that. Together with my help, you will become a great officer.”
“Thanks, but you are going to have to prove it to me.”
“What happened in the hold this morning? You took control and defeated the enemy without hardly thinking about it. And certainly not crying about it.”
“Bull shit Mickey! I froze scarred shitless. They were the ENEMY. Not my friends, family, crewmates. .”
“Everyone freezes when they are scarred or surprised. It is Mother Nature’s way of making sure you do the right thing to survive instead of just blinding running as the less intelligent species do. Overcoming that fear and acting properly makes the difference. As for your crew; you’re wrong Mark. They are neither your family, crewmates nor your friends. They are your men. Officers cannot command family, friends or crewmates and you will never command men if you do not respect yourself and them and it does not matter what rank you are.”
“No Mickey. That does not make any sense.”
“You commanded men in the Hold Battle this morning that barely knew you because they respected the uniform you whore. Not because they were your friends or crewmates or family. They did not know you from dirt five minutes before the battle started.”
“Well it’s a sur
e bet the engine room crews know what I was and don’t respect me so I am sunk.”
“They do not have to respect you but they do have to respect the uniform. All you have to do is respect yourself and your uniform and remind them to respect the uniform as well and they will have to forget your past.”
“Oh great. Well they don’t respect the uniform either; believe me I have spent a decade with them. But you do make sense, these guys are the enemy. So how do I do that?”
So how did you defeat the enemy in the hold?”
“I ah. I ah. I figured out what their weaknesses where and how to use both their strengths and weaknesses against them. Then improved my men’s’ weaknesses and strengths and increased the enemies’ weaknesses as much as I could and then waited for the right time to over whelm them with surprise.” Getting a glazed look on his face. “And then I spent the rest of the time being scared to death running my ass off trying to stay alive.
“Sounds like every battle I have in my memory banks and similar to this situation Mark except you don‘t want to kill anyone and you can take care of being scarred shitless before you act. So what do you need to do first?”
“Well, hell I don’t know. Hell that’s it. I don’t know anything. I have only been an officer for less than a day and I do not have any idea what the rules are. Well, I do have an idea from classes I have taken over the years in school and being a cadet but I just didn’t pay that much attention when they covered all this. The last thing I ever planed for was becoming a Damn Officer.” Mark leaned against the inner hull as a truck mechanic at an airtruck around by the mechanics shop was trying to explain how to change a fan control module to one of the young mechanics who seemed not to be getting it. Making Mark wonder what the kids problem was since Mark had been doing it for years himself, but then when he was the kid’s age, he was just as stupid. Then thinking for a few seconds Mark got a glint in his eyes. “You did say something about hypnoteaching me whole college courses didn’t you? I need you to give me a crash course in ships rules and regulations and how to be an officer.”
“I can help you become a better officer but as far as your ships regulations go, I am sorry Mark, the information I have from the internet is not reliable or complete enough to help you.”
“Well, I have my old class slides someplace in my room I think, with all the information I should need. They have to be someplace in those boxes. Then you need access to the main frame core computer don’t you?” Mark headed for the chain since it was closer after coming out of MP-3.
Mark got to his cabin just as his Aid was hanging out his new dress uniforms and started tearing open the boxes sitting on the upper bunk. “I need to ask you a question and I want an honest answer.”
Looking up with baffled interest the bosom said. “Sure sir.”
“The entire engineering deck seems to think I am one step above a worm and are doing their best to get rid of me.” Mark watched the face of his aid for a few seconds and then continued. “How do you feel about me?”
“Sir. The aid position is normally held by an engineer and I am a Boson’s Mate sir. It seems no engineer wanted this post and they called for volunteers and I applied for and got it because of my seniority as well as my outstanding clerical qualifications. The fact that I was once assigned to the Engineering decks for a few years helped. I have no ores in the water with this except that they have been treating me the same as you since I walked into the engine room an hour ago. Though over the years the black gang has always thought us deck hands where useless morons sir. So I would love to do anything I can to help you screw them over sir.” and smiled. “I heard what happened down in the engine room. Don’t feel too bad about it. I have seen it happen several times before when ratings become officers and stayed in the same division, even with deck hands. The men don’t take kindly to the promotion of men and women that they used to lord over or call friends.” Smiling. “It always takes the officer turning into an ass hole and a bit of knocking heads to remind them to respect the uniform. The next time we go down there I want to kick butts the way you did up in the hold sir. Oh and what I heard happen on the Mess Deck. That is an officer anyone would follow sir.”
“Ya, aa. Not very far evidentially. But I heard something about respecting the uniform already Boson.” Mark emptied one of the big boxes onto the lower bunk and hoped that he could live up to the Boson’s expectations. Finely coming up with the box of slides he had saved from most of his courses. “I need you to go back down to the engine room and do a few things for me. Things I can’t do at the moment.” After giving the bosom a list he sent him off then opening the crystal case he started feeding the slides into slots that had opened up for them on the end that once had his glasses incased. Mickey rapidly reading them as Mark dug them out of the box to plug them in for Mickey. Piling the ones on the bunk as mickey finished down loading each of them which usually only took a second. Finishing emptying the box Mark then cleaned off the bed shoving everything back into the boxes and then laid down and got comfortable. “Ok Mickey, let's see what you can really do speed training a refresher course of all those slides. I hope it is not just a waste of time."
Chapter 32 Blackbeard’s Disappointment
Blackbeard screamed at everyone and everything after watching Mark decimate his men in the Star Queen’s hold on the sensor recording. “I thought you said the inscription code could not be broken and I watched that Ensign do just that with his fingers on the damn screen pad. And then you said the bomb would blow the ship to hell and that no one could possible defuse it and the ship is still there even after we sent a detonation command. And know we find out the police captured the dimwit owner alive and the sensors off the loader and found out about the gas bombs and the tracking beacon and it is all your fault. ” Pulling his blaster he blew the technician into the next universe using full power sending a dozen shots into the crewman that had been with Blackbeard for 10 years, plastering body parts over half the control room and destroying the console he was at. Turning the big wall screen on one of the news channels “I need to know what the police know. Get me that damn commissioner we paid off fast.” To no one in particular.
The screen on the wall came back on after a few minutes as technicians resumed their seats and went back to work ignoring the gore and burnt meat plastered around the control room. The screen showing a news anchor summing up the news. “The police are reportedly searching all of the junk yards on the planet for connections with the suspected Pirate ring but have no definite leads past the single Junk yard already reported.”
“Good! I am going to my office to make some calls to make sure there won’t be any reason to tie our little shipping venture with those dastardly Junk yard fools.” Blackbeard stepped into the elevator cursing his head off. He also had to get several junk yard employees killed within the next few hours as well just to cover his back. The ship appeared on the screen sitting with its upper hold’s hatch open. Wrecked trucks and police cars littering the deck across the opining with the piles of junk deep inside making it look like a massive battle had taken place inside the hold. A fact the news reports took full advantage of with the reported death toll rising by the hour as they showed wrist phone composite clips from dead and wounded junkmen of Mark jumping up onto the loader and blasting away. Seeing that clip as the elevator doors closed Blackbeard stopped cursing. Vowing to figure out another way to get his hands on the Star Queen and now this Ensign that had cost him so much trouble. Even if he had to do it the old fashion way. Track it through the star systems until an opportunity presented itself. But no, he did not want to wait that long.
Besides, what if the damn Star Queen wound up being one of the hundred plus Trampships that never made it off the planet again and the crew was interned inside one or a dozen of the Tramp Camps where he could not get at them. From what the scan had shown, the damn Trampship was woefully lacking in lifeboats even if they worked which he knew from experience that most Trampship’s lifeboats didn
’t. Not to mention that its engines were so ancient that it was a miracle they were even working with no sign of any upgrades being installed on them. Making it unlikely that they would pass this damn planets strict engine inspections before receiving an Outback Pass Port. And then to find out after the sensor data was processed, that the damn ship’s Pot was made up of fool’s gold that most sensors would have picked up as real. Meant that the ship was broke and would be lucky if it ever lifted again. Blackbeard was getting more unhappy by the hour.
Chapter 33 The Admiral
Walking through a maze of offices, Mark finely walked into the computer core compartment carrying Mickey‘s case that now looked like a thin crystal attaché case with a handle on one side. Mark still marveling from watching it slowly transform as his mind tried to catch up to what Mickey had crammed into it over a couple of hours of Hypnoteaching. He passed a dozen people and not one asked him what he was doing or where he was going. Not one, more than glanced at him in his new khaki work uniform. While he felt comfortable in it without all the starch and medals. Only a name plate, flight wings and proficiency buttons adorned his chest. He still had the single gold ensign bar on each of his lapels even after Mickey had told him for certain that being the Commander of MP3 rated him the rank as temporary Commander that included the Lieutenant Commander tabs, he simply did not want and would not flaunt a rank he did not feel comfortable in. Fact was he did not feel comfortable with Ensign bars as it was.
Walking toward the core hatch he felt ready to jump out of his uniform since he already felt totally naked, the first time someone said boo. Luckily no one said boo as he entered through the armored computer core hatch. The Core computer was solid crystal cylinder some 6 feet wide and 5 decks tall according to Mickey. The top disappearing in the gloom overhead except for streaks of light that flashed up and down through the crystal at seemingly regular intervals but Mark quickly realized was not quite regular. Standing in front of the core Mark looked up and down marveling at the equipment.
Tramp Wars: The Enemy Page 50