Tramp Wars: The Enemy

by Larry Roberts

  "Going into slow time is like over clocking a computer processor. If you stay in slow time for more than a few real seconds while you are awake, you can do incredible damage Mark. The sudden heat buildup is almost as bad as the oxygen depletion. Both can turn you into an idiot if you stay in slow time to long. Which is why you can only use a fraction of your brain most of the time. A minor flaw in human anatomy. They found out when they started using human minds for A.I. Controllers that by increasing the blood flow rate using special oxygenated blood to feed the brain as well as cooling, human intelligence and speed of thought could keep up with the electronic A.I.'s. But for everyday life, humans as with most species do not need faster brains to survive in everyday life.

  Mark watched the hug hatch opening slowly slide past him realizing that up close the hatch was a hundred times bigger than the fighter with plenty of room for him to get through. Then the ring he thought was simply a light around the landing box zipped past and he was thrown forward in his straps as another slightly smaller ring quickly approached with a whole line of rings forming a tube that matched the tube he could see out the other end of the hanger and distant hatch. Then as what he had originally thought was the trap got closer with its flashing lit up box ahead, he realized that there was nothing he could do now but pray they stopped in time, he looked closely at the rows of fighters. The ones on the left looked like brand new system designed X-wing fighters he had seen on recruitment videos while the ones on the right looked like a bigger version of his reconnaissance tri wing fighter. They had to be the old Imperial Torpedo bombers.

  As he concentrated on the pain of the straps that where not half tight enough, he saw a woman walking from one of the fighters without a suit. "Mickey the open lock is pressurized. How the..."

  "There is an air barrier field across to the hatch. It takes a lot of energy to establish but it is basic physics. I will go over it with you later. You are going to need to land as soon as the rings finish slowing us down.

  Mark could hear something rumbling beside him. Glancing over he saw Dian hanging forward in her straps with her mouth wide open with spit flying from her lips and tongue. She looked like she was screaming but all Mark could hear was a loud low pitched moan.

  And then they were over the lit box at the end of the cone of rings as Mark settled back into his seat. Without thinking Mark sat the fighter down on top of the cross in the center and killed the power. The fighter sitting a good 8 feet in the air instead of on the deck when Mark had first stepped into it back in the pit.

  “The Fighter is in its military configuration Mark with its landing gear fully extended for attaching and maintaining weapons.” Mickey said as Dian's high pitched screaming hit his ears in full force. Releasing his harness he reached out putting his arm across her chest grabbing her opposite arm and squeezed. As her scream ran out of air and she took another deep breath he said. "We are down now. You are safe Hun."

  Looking wide eyed around at him she took a couple more rapid breaths and then grabbed his arm and pushed it away. "Don't you dare touch me. You could have killed us." Hitting him on the shoulder, (the only part she could reach) she started crying. "I hate you. I can't believe I let you drag me up here just so you could kill me."

  Mark just starred at her with a big grin. Happy just to be alive himself as the pride welled up in him at accomplishing his first high speed trap landing. His heart sounded like a race horse in his ears as he sat back taking in huge gulps of air himself.

  She hit him again on the arm repeatedly screaming. "I hate you! I want to go home."

  The fighter suddenly dropped and Dian let out another little scream before looking around. "No. let me out. I want to go home."

  Mark looked around as the fighter descended below the hanger and a platform closed back across above them to seal the hanger deck above them. The fighter stopped going down, then jerked forward sliding across a large bay into a brightly lit compartment as lasers crisscrossed the length of the fighter as it came to rest. Screens covered the front bulkhead of the compartment with several panels built into it at various heights. Catwalks slid out from the bulkheads around the fighter to form a deck completely around the fighter’s fuselage.

  Mark hit the canopy release and then stepped out onto the catwalk next to the fighter.

  Dian looked around unsure for a few seconds and then struggled with her harness release before jumping out. "I am never getting back in to that monster or taking a ride with you ever again you creep. You could have killed us."

  The catwalk shuddered as something banged from below and Dian jumped back into the cockpit and started buckling herself in tight. "What was that?"

  Mark looked down through the grated deck and smiled as he watch large arms reach out to plug lines and hoses into the sides of the fighter. "They are plugging in the fighter. Nothing to worry about." Except that Mark frowned. He did not like some strange bot plugging things into his fighter he was not told about but being on a military base with them thinking it was a military spacecraft he could not expect less. "Mickey what happens when they realize this is not a military fighter?" The screen at the end of the compartment started flashing, "Diagnostic."

  "I believe they will simply kick us out into the main part of the station. Since the military ordered you to land here."

  Mark walked up past the nose of the fighter to the screen as it changed to read. "Reconnaissance fighter Mk-3. Obsolete. Damage- severe. Operational 23%." A schematic of the fighter appeared across the top of the bulkhead showing all the damage and malfunctioning systems in the fighter in red since little was plugged in where it belonged. The fighter was covered in red and yellow. Everything on the fighter was substandard below military specks.

  Mark walked up to the screen studying the damage and jumped as a voice said. "State your name, rank and duty station."

  Taken back he looked at the little window that appeared in front of him with a sentence that repeated what the voice had said.

  Swallowing and then frowning. "Ah… Mark Collins. Commander, GS-68-5942, Star Queen 52." Mark chuckled. "That should confuse the shit out of it."

  "I have a GS- Star Queen 52 berthed at Central City Galactic Port, pit 72."

  Mark frowned. "Ok Mickey now what?"

  The voice continued. "I have Mark Collins, Commander, as the registered owner of Space Craft number 5792364971354- Fighter, Recon. Damaged in combat. Repair estimate to full combat effectiveness, 1.3 million credits. Do you wish to repair obsolete spacecraft?"

  Mark's face turned white. "Hell no!" The last thing he wanted was anything to delay them getting out of there let alone costing them money.

  "Repeat answer please."

  "No! Do not repair space craft."

  A hand print appeared on the screen in front of Mark. "Please place palm on screen and repeat answer. Do you want obsolete Reconnaissance Fighter Repaired?"

  Mark quickly slapped his hand up against the screen and said. "No."

  "Thank you Commander Collins. Obsolete Space Craft will be demolished."

  Mark's mouth dropped open as lights started flashing.

  "Obsolete Space Craft will be moved to recycling in 15 seconds." Horns started blaring in time with the flashing lights.

  "No. Stop! Don't demolish damn it." Mark slapped the screen but the horns and lights continued.

  Turning around, Dian sat in the cockpit with her arms crossed across her chest a stern stubborn look on her face.

  "Dian get out of the there. They are taking it to be junked." Running up to his side of the cockpit he leaned in and started trying to take Mickey's remote out of the slot. "Get out Dian."

  Starring straight ahead. "No I want to go home now."

  Finely getting the slide out then turning to face the bulkhead. "Stop this! Don't demolish the fighter!" The horns and lights continued with no answer from the screen. "Mickey do something."

  "Mark slide my remote into the indicated slot next to the screen. This is a military grade system an
d I cannot infiltrate it from the outside. I may be able to access it if you can attach my remote to the screen. Hurry before the fighter is demolished." Mark ran up to the slot slapping the remote into the slot then turning he ran back to the fighter. "You must get Dian out of the fighter before they take it."

  "Dian get out of the fighter please." Mark begged as the stubborn Dian starred out the front of the cockpit ignoring him as he ran up to her side of the cockpit.

  "Five Seconds until Space Craft recycles. Please stand clear of Spacecraft."

  "Damn it Mickey do something!" With the horns blaring Mark reached down and grabbed Dian as she held onto the straps buckled around her. "I want to go home Mark. Take me home now."

  Popping the emergency release to her straps he pulled on her arms but with her arms looped through the straps he could not budge her even with repeated attempts.

  "Two seconds, please stand clear of Space Craft."

  Giving up with frustration Mark started to slap her in desperation then spotted his belt pack behind the seat. Grabbing it he dug the torch out of it and tossed the pack aside across the nose of the fighter were it slid down to lay wedged between the fuselage and deck grating. Pointed the torch at the console next to Dian's foot he fired. Cutting the lower strap's anchor point he melted that part of the console and started a fire in the cheap plastic that had been used to rebuild the cockpit for civilian use.

  Suddenly Dian screamed trying to get away from the fire she threw off the straps and jumped out of the cockpit just before the space craft started to back out of its slot in the grating deck.

  Mark was still leaned on the side as the fighter rapidly backed out, he fell down between the fighter and the catwalk to the deck below.

  Dian turned around. "Are you crazy? If you wanted me out all you had to do is ask…" looking around. "Mark! Mark!" Turning she watched the fighter backing out of the compartment and started running down the catwalk after it. "How dare you leave me here you ass hole bastard! She screamed as she ran. Reaching the end of the catwalk the fighter disappeared down into the continuation of the same shaft they had dropped down from the deck above before the deck closed up leaving an empty deck.

  Standing there she started crying. "How could you leave me like this? I am sorry if I did anything wrong." She sobbed. "Comeback. I promise to behave myself and be a good girl." Tears running down her cheeks.

  Mark climbed up a ladder next to the bulkhead screen in the front corner and stepped onto the catwalk. Shaking his head he walked around the end and up toward Dian. "Hey! I am right here. I didn't go anywhere Dian."

  She stopped sobbing and turned around. Spotting Mark she broke out into a run hitting him with her body at full speed as Mark side stepped enough to catch her without getting knocked over spinning her around. "I thought you left without me. Leaving me here all alone." Bear hugging him. "I thought you had gone home without me."

  "No I don't think either one of us are going home anytime soon." Shaking his head as he watched the hatch close at the end of the compartment. Half of him not believing what just happened. "Mickey can't you do something to get it back?"

  "Sorry Mark but I have no control over anything aboard the station. Besides the damage you did to the cockpit to get Dian out and the resulting fire is destroying the Spacecraft as we speak. Or was, the fire has now been put out and the spacecraft is being disassembled."

  "Oh Godstar. Did I forget about another remote? Sorry Mickey for loosing it." Shaking his head Mark turned around looking for a personnel hatch.

  "No Mark. Once I set up interface protocols with the boat I did not need the remote to simply talk to it. You got my only remote thank you."

  "Ok, how do we get out of here and to the shuttle port so we can get back to London City? Hopefully I have enough in my bank account left over from the auction to pay for a couple of tickets. I just hope we can get back before muster tomorrow. At least that is one car I don't have to worry about getting rid of." And headed for the hatch in the corner.

  On the bulkhead screen he saw a picture list of fighters and bombers appear plastered across the end of the compartment. Each with a description of the spacecraft under the picture. Several of them were only ghost images with, "Not in Stock" plastered over them. Including the icon of the Tri-wing Recon Fighter Mark had just had scrapped. Heading for the hatch the bulkhead suddenly started talking as he walked by. "Please pick replacement spacecraft from list."

  Mark stopped as Dian looked up to follow Mark's open mouth stare. "What the heck is going on here Mickey?"

  "I was able to access an old program for combat replacements. I may be able to replace the fighter if I can manipulate the old program properly and gain access to the supply main frame. The program seems to have been put on standby since the war ended but not turned off or deleted. It is not part of the military Command and its simple Security structure should allow me to infiltrate it without being detected if I am careful."

  "Yes I understand that but how can we get away with taking one of their fighters? It sounds impossible."

  "I do not know how with any certainty yet Mark but I am running with the possibility that having your spacecraft scrapped from what it believes is battle damage, the Computers old protocols from the war require issuing you a replacement spacecraft. I simply must fill in the blanks to make it think you are an official English unit. A reserve entity is the easiest and only possibility open with a good possibility of success."

  "But I am not English Military."

  "It knows who you are and who the Star Queen is and I am simply creating or making it think you are in the reserves in some form of the English Military. Though being offered and receiving are two separate actions. I have many hurdles to overcome before we can leave the station with anything. Try picking a spacecraft and see what happens."

  "Ok. Computer, give me a new X-wing fighter."

  "The X-wing is not a combat reserve authorized replacement."

  "Reserve?" Mark started reading the descriptions of the other listed space craft and spotted something the Queen could actually use and he just may be able to keep. "Computer, give me a new TS-3, Medium Transport Shuttle."

  "The Medium Transport Shuttle TS-3, is not an authorized combat reserve replacement at this time. The necessary authorizations are waiting signatures at this time."

  Mark sighed shaking his head. "Computer, please show me only authorized replacement spacecraft."

  Everything on the wall disappeared except the Tri-wing FB-35 and several big transports starting at 145 feet long clear up to one that was 600 feet long. Mark shook his head at the short list including the Tri-wing FB-35, the slightly bigger brother of the Tri-winged Recon fighter Mark and Dian had arrived in with 4 30mm cannons running up the sides of the fuselage complete with missile bays and hard points on the wings for more missiles and bombs. "Ok Computer, give me the FB-35 even though I can't see how the hell I am going to get rid of it later. At least it will get us home and maybe I can talk the Captain into keeping it."

  "I do not understand your statement. Please repeat."

  "Computer, I choose the FB-35 Tri-wing as replacement spacecraft."

  "Thank you Commander Collins. Do you wish spacecraft to be delivered with current squadron markings and camouflage pattern for inspection here or placed on the flight line for pickup after Debriefing?"

  "Ah… Yes... Now." Mark blurted out. He certainly did not want to go through any debriefing or any other delays. Besides his father always said a bird in the hand was worth ten promised deliveries later. "Please deliver for inspection now computer."

  "Delivering now for inspection. Do you wish FB-35 to be mission ready Commander Collins?"

  "Yes Computer." Mark practically yelled then under his breath to himself. "The Recon fighter was flying when we arrived for Pete's sake. Besides I want out of here before anything else happens."

  "Please repeat request."

  "Yes Computer. Deliver fighter in mission ready condition."


  "Fighter will take 30 minutes to put through paint and weapons cells. Condition of fighter is 100% with 3 days remaining on current annual. Should I schedule fighter for its annual inspection and weapons systems recertification before delivery?"

  "No Computer. Ahh…. Check fighter inventory and supply fighter with newest Annual certifications."

  "There are 12 fighters with time left on Annual Certifications in storage. Fighter in paint cell now is lowest manufacturing number with 3 days' time on Annual Certification. Do you wish to stop paint cell work and replace with longest remaining time of 7 days on Annual Certification?"

  "Computer No. Do not replace. Continue with paint cell work and delivery.

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  Dian finely let go of her death grip around his waist and they sat down in front of the screen with their backs to the bulkhead and waited and starred at the big closed hatch. "Mark, what is going on? When are we going home?"

  "I wish I knew for sure. It all depends on what happens in the next half hour or so Hun."

  "I am sorry I panicked inside the fighter. I just wanted to go home is all." She laid her head on his shoulder.

  "We will Hun. Even if we have to take a shuttle home." Mark laid his head back against the warm foam metal of the bulkhead. "Mickey let me see a map of the base. We may have to leave in a hurry and it would be nice to know how."

  "Sorry Mark but I can only access the supply computer and not the basses military computer and I dare not risk trying to access the civilian computer at this time. You should use this time to familiarize yourself with the new fighter. It is a very complicated piece of equipment with all the updates installed at the end of the war."