Tramp Wars: The Enemy

by Larry Roberts

  "Ya. Giving it some running time could just do it to." Feeling better Mark smiled. "Heck we don't need that much thrust just to deorbit and once on the ship I would have plenty of time to overhaul the damn engines if it is needed. If we can even keep it." Listening for a few seconds. "Fact is, I think it is already idling a little smoother just sitting here. Right Mickey?"

  "I can only detect a slight decrease of what you would call burps or ignition failures over the few seconds it has been idling. That is not long enough to log a trend Mark. But at least it is idling now after burping the throttle. Though you could have dragged the bomber off the landing legs severely damaging the fighter if you had maintained even a fraction of a second longer at full thrust."

  "That is what I thought. It was only a burp so no problem Mickey. Now all I have to do is get the other 2 engines running." He spent the next 5 minutes starting and doing the same to the other 2 engines. Getting them to settle down into a rough idle. Finely with a sigh he shut them down and took a deep breath. Patting Dian on the leg he smiled at her as she continued to read through the medical files ignoring him after he had scarred her again burping the throttles. Mark climbed out of the cockpit.

  On the deck he looked back to see the bulkhead behind the fighter blackened and covered with what looked like the same material he had filled the trashcan with. Making a painful face he shrugged his shoulders. "Oops. But damn that was a lot of shit." Gathering up the boxes he started reloading the bay. This time he opened up the heavy tool and storage boxes and emptied them out across the deck. Then placed the boxes one at a time into the storage bay and reloaded the heavy dense tools and replacement parts for the engines and guns back into them.

  "Mark, a couple of the crewmen from the shuttle are approaching the fighter."

  "What?" Mark looked around at the approaching crewman. One was a big man with Master Chief Chevrons and the other was a skinny woman with a fighter Tech Sargent’s badge on her shoulder. Then went back to loading the bay with the light weight boxes that where left.

  "The Admiral left in a gravcar a few minutes ago. These two were headed into the station from the shuttle when they seemed to have spotted us and decided to check us out but something does not look right with the readings I am getting from them. The uniforms do not fit properly, they may be trying to hide their identities."

  "What do you mean their uniforms do not fit properly?" Mark looked at them frowning.

  Their uniform coveralls suddenly acquired yellow shading in the shoulders arms, legs, stomach and butts. "After even a few hours, cloths shape themselves to the people that are wearing them. In time even washed cloths will still retain the shape of their owners. The coveralls on both of these crewmen do not hang naturally on them. These are not the owners of the cloths they are wearing."

  "High there. The Tech Chief said as he walked up. This is a nice antique you have here."

  Dian peeked over the edge of the cockpit looking down at the approaching two.

  "Mark." Mickey said. "He is very puzzled about something I believe it to be the fighter. Be careful. He also seems to already know you but not Dian."

  "Thanks." Mark smiled and stuffed another box into the bay were Mickey showed him it would fit best to allow the rest to be packed in around it."

  "You look like a tramp crewman. This yours?"

  "Ya." Pointing up at the Star Queen written on the tail below the 4 digit tail number. "Actually we beamed up here just so we could steal one of your fighters but we are just too stupid to take the newest and best fighters you have coming out your ears." Mark smiled shutting the hatch as he pointed over his shoulder at the line of X-wing fighters.

  "Well. Most civilian boats dock on the boat deck up at the top of the station. Or in the garbage docks at the bottom." The Master Chief said.

  Mark swallowed feeling like running or screaming but knowing he had no choice but to tell him something… Kind of…."Well. Port control had us going to the Garbage deck behind a bunch of garbage scows and then we got a call and told to follow a tight beam and land here ASAP. All we wanted to do after a successful test flight, was have dinner and then head back for our home ship at London’s Center City's Galactic Port. Now after going through your frigging trap, (for the first time ever) and scarring my girlfriend to death, all we want to do is go home before the damn ship quits on me completely. Turning, he headed for the maintenance control panel beside the ladder on the pilots side.

  "Hey wait one will you." The Tech Sargent said.

  Mark stopped at the foot of his ladder. "Ya what you want?"

  "Your engines are a mess. Evidentially the trap damaged it somehow. We are duty bound to fix it for you. Let us take you to dinner at say the Bubble lounge while our crew make a few repairs for you." The Tech Chief said.

  "No thanks." Mark blurted out without having to think. "We can manage. All I have to do is make entry and the rest is downhill."

  Dian with her head and shoulders over the rim of the Cockpit brightened up. "Dinner at the Bubble lounge is where we wanted to go in the first place Darling."

  Mark grimaced and looked up at Dian and said tight lipped. "It is going to take what money I have to repair the ship as it is now love. We have to go. NOW." Turning to the crewmen. "Besides we were already told that you have to make reservations weeks in advance to get in there so we will just go and eat when we get back to the Star Queen."

  "Now don’t be ridiculous. The Dinner and repairs are on us with no cost to you, besides it just looks like all the engine needs is a good clean out. Evidentially your mechanics did not do a good job cleaning out the engines when they installed them." The Master Chief said with a smile. "Have you back in space in an hour."

  The First class Tech smiled. "I have a relative working at the Bubble lounge and can get you in anytime." The First Class lit up with the words (relative working), telling Mark it was a bold faced lie but the rest of the statement was the truth, baffling Mark.

  "Good. We will go." Dian started climbing down the ladder.

  "Mark." Mickey said. "The longer we stay here the more likely we are to be caught and the lower our chances are of getting away with the fighter."

  Mark turned his back on the crewmen as he accessed the control screen, closing all the access hatches and whispered. "I thought you could not break the law and stealing a fighter is breaking the law isn't it?"

  "You are not steeling, you are simply replacing what the military took from us with the closest equivalent piece of equipment. We are just trying to avoid all the red tape and prejudice against Tramps."

  Dian stepped down onto the deck and said. "Ok, let's go I am starving."

  Mark turned around. "No! We have to leave now. We don't have permission to stay longer."

  "Don't be ridicules. We didn't have permission to come her to begin with so staying for dinner like you promised won't get us into any worse trouble." Turning to the woman First Class Tech. "You lead the way oh." Holding out her hand. "I am Dian, Ensign Medical department. Star Queen. And that old fuddy duddy is Commander Collins." Dian smiled sweetly at Mark.

  The Tech Sargent smiled and took her hand. "Hi I am First Class Tech…"

  “Commander Collins!" The Master Chief interrupted the Sargent. "Are you a relative to Ensign Collins from the Star Queen's Hold battle a few days ago plastered all over the news? Sir?”

  “Ah, not a relative. It was me, a temp promotion since them.”

  “Well then it would be an honor to give your fighter a once over fixing any minor problems we find.”

  “Thank you Sgt. But it is not necessary I can take care of everything. We have to leave.”

  “Don’t be ridicules Commander Collins. Go enjoy yourself, I will take good care of your fighter. I can see a bunch of things that need attention on this old girl. Mostly fine tuning that anyone not in the military would know anything about.” The Chief. stepped past Mark hitting the controls to open all the engine covers.

  Trying to hit the controls to close t
he covers back up. "I told you Chief I don't have the credits to pay for any work."

  “Please don’t insult me Mr. Collins sir. I am not asking for a dime from you for anything we have offered to do for you. For 20 years we have watched ships arrive and depart never to be heard from again after being taken and plundered out where no ship should ever be able to be taken and mostly the ships with valuable cargos. And then there are the ships that we find out months after they were supposed to arrive from a planet far in the outback but never heard from again. Again all with valuable cargos. No Sir: you’re little battle uncovering takers trying to spy and plant a transmitter on your ship explains why we are now on the edge of the outback and maybe how to push it back. No sir, if I had the power you would be leaving here with a new X-wing fighter instead of this piece of junk so please let me at least do what I can to tune it up while you are here sir. It would be my honor.”

  Dian started dragging Mark after the First Class. "Come on love. I am starving. Let this nice man do his job. It is not often we actually find someone that doesn’t want to throw us off the planet or offer us dinner."

  The Chief smiled after them and spoke up. "Morgan, you can take them to the restaurant in the personal transport. And try not to talk them to death. Then wait for them and bring them back.”

  Mark turned to Dian grabbing her arm and slowing her down a little once they were a few steps away from the Master Chief. "Don’t say anything to anyone about losing our fighter and getting a new one or we will never leave here."

  Dian smiled at Mark. "I am not stupid Mark. I know how much these people hate us. Relax. I looked at the paper work and it says the fighter is the Star Queen's with nothing about the old piece of junk. So relax and stop acting like a thief."

  Tech Sgt. Morgan did not follow orders very well. She did not stop talking and asking questions about seeing Mark on the screen fighting all the takers on the cargo deck. Asking a million questions about the battle between other questions about life on the Star Queen. Even congratulating them when she found out that Dian had only moved in with Mark a few days before though Dian had to drag most of Mark's answers out of him. Tech Sargent Morgan continued asking questions the whole time she was driving them. Moving on to the death off the ramp and then the Gas killing so many crewman without Mark realizing that she knew more than she was letting on. Especially how she knew about the incidents to begin with. Somehow making it sound like Dian was coming forth with the information spontaneously. All the while giving them a mini tour of the station. Mark was glad Dian did most of the talking to Morgan's questions as he watched the Master Chief and his crew working on the fighter through Mickey’s sensors.

  The dinner was great as was the view from the private glass bubble suspended a hundred feet below the bottom of the station. Ever changing vistas of the planet slowly moved below them with a waiter that seemed to go out of his way to make sure they had a great meal with incredible attention to detail and food that melted in their mouths and left them craving for more. Mark trying to forget the probability of the fighter not being there when they returned even though he could see it and then thrown in the brig. Nervous he tried to take advantage of the privacy between courses and then after word as they relaxed in the soft couch. But Dian told him to act like an Officer for another hour until they got back into space. Mark could not tell her he did not expect to ever leave the station again a free man or see the Star Queen again. After paying for the meal (Mark had to look at the bill 3 or 4 times cringing as Mickey assured him that there was plenty in his account to cover it before he put his finger on the pad) they walked out into the boulevard and a crowd of reporters, microphones and cameras.

  “How did you figure out the junk men where takers?

  “How many Takers did you kill?

  “When did you…?”

  “Did the junkmen terrorist try to Gas the Star Queen to get even for revealing…?”

  “Why did your friend commit suicide?”

  “He was murdered!” Disgusted, Mark tried to push through since he did not have any answers for them but too many people were in the way. “Please there is really nothing I can tell you about the incidents in the hold or elsewhere on the ship at this time. Let us leave. We have a drop window we cannot miss.”

  “Commander Collins why are you here? “

  Hoping that if he answered the one seemingly harmless question he could, they would let them leave. “Testing the Star Queen’s new ah… fighter torpedo bomber. Please let us go.”

  “My resources tell me you launched from London’s Central City Galactic Spaceport an hour and a half ago in a Mustang sports car that could barely fly from a ship that is reported to be on the verge of bankruptcy. After you made an ass of yourself at an auction illegally driving up the prices of the aircars at that auction and using your position as a ship's officer to take several of the most valuable articles for yourself. One of which you now call a fighter trying to make yourself look good when you actually are just a common thief spending your ill-gotten credits for dinner at the most posh restaurant in orbit over the planet. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Mark could only stare at her in shock as the area became quite waiting for him to answer. Taking a breath. “Mam! That would depend on what you consider an expensive joy ride. The fuel was surplus, the fighter is surplus unless it truly is a fighter and I had a few hours to spar to find out. The civilian Mustang is a poor copy of a great Imperial ah, Strike fighter that would be lucky to go supersonic let alone make orbit and only a fool would even think of de-orbiting in one. The cheapest way to test an Imperial Fighter especially after it has been sitting in a cargo hold for years is to take it into orbit and then pray it makes it back dirt side without burning up and scattering thousands of pieces across thousands of miles of your beautiful planet. So excuse me for taking the time while the fighter is being serviced to get a good meal. I have to admit I was a bit foolish. Being from out of system I did not realize that eating here would cost me a month's pay.”

  Smiling into the Cameras as he took a deep breath. “As for the auction. The Star Queen no longer has room for the Aircars and in this hurried forced 5 day last minute emergency auction with mostly local dealers attending and colluding on which cars were sold to which dealers so they could steel them for pennies, my fellow crewmen would have been lucky to make enough to pay for the auction let alone getting the true value of the cars. I simply added a wild card to the pot allowing my crewmates to get at least half the true value of their vehicles. The fact that I got stuck with a few junkers that included that badly abused airtruck, along with a few of the vehicles that I thought could benefit the Star Queen makes it all perfectly legal. As for taking advantage of the innocent dealers, I was not even allowed to bid on my own vehicle which I was surprised some civilian thought was worth so much. As for the fighter, it is not my fault the dealers where to upset at not stealing most of the aircars that they did not see the gold under the fancy paint and did not include it in their lists to buy if it truly is gold. That is why I am testing it to see if it is worth anything before I talk to the Captain about keeping it to help defend the Queen in the Outback. Hopefully my next conversation with the Captain won’t be from the Afterlife. Godstar willing."

  Putting his arm around Dian in the sudden silence. “Have a nice day Ladies and Gentlemen.” Smiling he pushed through the stunned crowd towered the transport cart. Morgan soon had Mark in a better mood with her bright disposition and little stories about life in the English military between questions as she continued to sympathizing with them as she drove them back to the hanger while showing them a great deal of the station they had already seen. Though again Mark was watching what looked like half a hundred crewmen work on the fighter to notice. Between Dian and the First Class, Mark thought his ear was being talked off. Mark thinking that if they had found them out and taken the fighter she would not be as cordial as she was, tried his best to ignored the fact since Dian was enjoying the tour so mu
ch as the two continued to talk what was sounding more and more like gossip about the Star Queen and some of the English Navy. Mostly about life on the tramp ship but slipping back in questions about incidents Mark did not realize she should not have known about, along with his duties aboard ship every couple of questions without seeming to. Diane finely bragged about Mark's meddles to the gal to his surprise while wishing she would just shut up about them. Especially when he was asked about them as well when Dian did not know more of the details surrounding the incidents. Making Mark uncomfortable having to explain them when the woman would not take the simple statement that they were nothing. Mark did his best to smile through it all instead of demanding that she take them straight to the flight line which is what every bone in his body demanded. The fact that Mickey kept showing him that the fighter had not moved and that a crew was in the process of finishing up the engines tune ups helped. But until they were off the station and headed home he was not about to relax.

  Chapter 28 What Godstar Damn Fighter?

  The Star Queen's Captain Cook, stopped eating with a mouth full of food as the screens showing the planetary news was interrupted with a flash live news bulletin from the space station and Mark appeared with a beautiful ensign next to him with medical tabs. Taking a good minute to get over the shock after she realized it really was Mark she started turning redder by the second the Captain finely swallowed and then took a drink as Mark said. “…before going to the Captain to keep the fighter.” The Captain spit the drink over the table and the officers next to her.