The Captain practically shouted. “If that fool survives re-entry I want him in my cabin 1 minute later.” Looking around and not finding what she was looking for. “Somebody get me the truck dispatcher now. Put the truck dispatcher on that screen now. Do you hear me! Get the damn truck dispatcher now!”
The Truck dispatcher appeared on the wall screen. “Yes Captain?”
“Did you authorize Mr. Collins to test an Imperial fighter?”
“What? Sir. I authorized Mr. Collins to test a, Mr. Huntington’s old Sports aircar.…Was the first time I ever got a close look at the…. well he called it a Mustang and it had Mustang plastered on the side in fancy letters, but come to think of it sir. It did look more like the old imperial recon fighter I saw one time at an airshow than a sports car. I told him to go ahead and get dinner with his friend while he was out since he would probably miss chow. I am sure he won’t be gone much more than another hour or so sir.” The Captain just starred at the Commander. “Is something wrong sir. He can’t get in to much trouble even in a supped up sports car can he? Don’t tell me he got a ticket sir. But it makes sense. Hell in that car I would probably get a ticket parked in the pit as well sir.”
“Commander... Mr. Collins, followed your orders and had dinner on this planet's main civilian Space Station. If he makes it back from orbit alive, I want that fighter impounded and locked up. Then tell the Sgt. at Arms to have a guard put on it. Speaking about the Sgt. at Arms I want to talk to the original owner tonight. What the hell is an Imperial Fighter doing on my ship without me knowing about it?”
“I don’t understand Captain. If he makes it back?”
“Commander, if that is just a supped up sports car or damaged; he and the ensign will burn up upon re-entry. Do you understand now Commander?”
A Woman started screaming in tears. “My babe! What is happening to my baby?”
Turning from the screen The Captain realized she was not in the Word room or the Officers Mess. Taking her Dinners with the passengers and enlisted crew most of the time while planet side instead of just occasionally. Two very upset mothers had heard every word. Though one was not taking the news as well as the other or as was the fathers.
“Captain!” Mr. Abraham demanded standing up. “What was my daughter doing on a test run this dangerous in the first place? She has no business being up there and I want her pulled off that piece of junk know. I have seen that Mustang and know how dangerous they are just on the surface of a planet and to have her trying re-entry with that blind fool maniac! I will not stand for it!”
“Mr. Abraham. Your daughter is a Ships Ensign and she will go where she is needed and ordered and yes at times she will be put in dangerous situations. Is that understood sir.” The distraught father not liking the answer sat back down trying to comfort his wife. Mr. Barns call the damn Station and see if you can pull the ensign off that fighter before he leaves.”
“Captain! You can have them both wait up there at the station and we can pick them up when we launch in a few days sir?” Mr. Collins stated the obvious.
“Mr. Collins. Your son obviously believes that is a real Imperial Fighter and so far he has been right about everything else he has done lately. I am willing to let him take that risk because he is right about one thing. We could use a good Imperial Fighter in our voyages in the outback. Especially since we only have two gunboats and a fighter that can fly rings around any gunboat I have ever seen with weapons able to take out both gunboats and turrets would be a damn fine addition to the ship. I just what to know why the hell I am just now hearing about it?” The Captain bellowed.
“But you are pulling off the ensign!”
‘I said I am willing to risk his life Mr. Collins. There is no need to risk the Ensign’s life as well. You should have more Faith in your son sir.”
“I do have faith in my son Captain.”
“Then Trust him and relax. He will be fine.”
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Blackbeard jumped up spitting out the meat along with a good drink of rum he had in his mouth. “Where the hell did he get an Imperial Fighter?" The news showed a fighter looking sports car almost crashing next to the Star Queen and then a long range shot of it approaching the station after the interview on the station. I want it shot down immediately and that bastard Collins splattered all over the country side. Do you hear me? Get the boats up along the reentry corridor and shoot him down as soon as he comes out of his ionized trail. He will be plenty low and slow enough for the missiles to have no problem killing him. Do you hear me? Get them up now!”
“But Mr. Blackbeard our boats are no match for an Imperial Fighter! A couple of them could be blown out of the sky!”
“No they won’t you fool. It is on a test run and has no weapons mounted. Look at it." Blackbeard pointed at the screen with the fighter frozen on it. "See it is weaponless for now. The authorities would not allow an armed fighter to fly around the planet. Now get up there and take care of it before they do put weapons on it after they get out of the system. You stupid moron!" He screamed. "Move it!”
The six boats shot out of the city a half hour later headed west. Their cargo boxes hiding anti-aircraft missiles and rapid fire laser cannons. Blackbeard had them to cover his ass if the authorities attacked his space port. Giving himself time to escape with as much loot as possible. They could buy him much valuable time swatting a police force with no more than a bunch of lightly armed police air cruisers and swat officers out of his way while being able to take on a good sized military force if need be with all the other defenses he had around the port and on the ships sitting in that port. An old unarmed imperial fighter stood no chance. Fact was, a well-armed fighter stood little better chance plunging planet ward down a fixed well marked reentry corridor, oblivious to an ambush as well.
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Mark and Dian got out of the cart only a few steps from the Imperial Fighter. Sargent Morgon had finely ran out of places to take them after getting a call. Mark seemed to notice for the first time the huge pair of cannon barrels running up the sides of the lower fuselage from the strakes. They looked deadly, but how was he going to explain cannons to the Captain not to mention the round finless missiles hanging out on their launch rails under the wings and fuselage.
The Chief noticed Mark starring at the missiles and smiled. "Don't worry about re-entry son. They retract into the wings when you raise the gear. Makes it easier to reload between missions as well as jettison if you crash."
“You know Mark; I love the name Mustang." Dian rubbed up against him. "Did you know that the Mustang is a wild horse that runs free across the grass plains of planets? Fable has it they are originally from the old earth if it really egests. I think it really fits.” She ran her fingers along the name fancily printed across the side of the fighter’s nose.
“Commander Sir. We have checked your fighter from stem to stern and the scans show your fighter is as good as new. If not for your fancy red paint job with re-entry proof ceramic paint I would think it was one of our fighters from storage. I would like to know where you got a full load of missiles and decoys, both towed and shot. Or how you managed to get an order for more when your ship reaches orbit.”
Picking up the Helmet Mark had found, the Chief looked at the scorched mark on the side rubbing it with his finger then tossed it in the cart they had just arrived in. "You don't need that piece of junk. It may have been fine on your armed shuttles but on a fighter you need a decent helmet. It sounds like you just bought this from a collector so I doubt if you know how to use it properly so listen up."
“While your bodies are in gravity tubs your heads are above them for better visibility so they will get banged around a lot requiring the helmets and high gee suits to keep blood to your brain above 20 gees." A pair of Gee suits were handed to them. "Get them on. These are coveralls that will fit over your cloths. Not as good as our combat suits our fighter pilots normally wea
r but this is all I could get you. These won't protect you from the heat or if the armored tub is penetrated or flashed in combat but they will do for re-entry. The combat helmet I am giving you and I see your weapons office already has, visor display, provides ship and targeting data as well as look and lock on targeting for your weapons for both of you but your weapons station officer has full control of the missiles and decoys including firing them because the pilot is too damn busy so hours of training is essential for coordination between the two of you which is why you are seated pretty much side by side.”
With the Gee suit coverall on, Mark climbed up into the cockpit as Dian climbed into her side. The Chief climbed up next to Mark with the First Class hanging on the side of the cockpit next to Dian.
Leaning across Mark and putting his hand on a big red switch on the console between the seats. “This is the master arm switch. In the off position you can train all day using the fighter as a simulator chained to the deck complete with Gee loads on your body thanks to your gravtubs with the computer providing missions and all the smart enemy targets you can dream up. Use it at least a couple times a week after you have spent a year with at least a couple of hours of daily practice to work up the skills needed to fight affectively. Otherwise you are wasting your time and the capabilities of the fighter and you will just be a sitting comm sat for your enemy. Remember speed and maneuvering is life. The computer has a full set of manuals and training programs that will walk you through combat from the beginner stage right up to expert giving advice and telling you when you’re stupid. Use it.”
Mark had a thousand questions. But he just wanted to get off the station before they were discovered. Not to mention he was hoping to get back to the ship before they were missed. Beside the point, he could still not believe or understand why this Chief Tech was trying so hard to help him. Making him incredibly suspicious of them and everything that had been done. Tramps where usually considered trash with strangers going out of their way to cheat, shit on or get rid of or chase off. Was he trying to delay them from leaving? Waiting for proof he was stealing the fighter?
Mark suddenly realized that they had missed their first reentry window almost 90 minutes before. “Shit we are late. It’s going to be curfew before we get back to the ship.” He told Diane. “My ass is going to be burned for not getting you back before curfew.”
“Don’t be ridiculous Mark. I heard the Dispatcher tell you to have dinner since you would probably be getting back late. He didn’t say when you had to be back and you are over 21 now and don’t have a curfew.”
“Ok but you aren't.”
“I am over 18 and with you roommate. I don’t either. Relax.”
“Good.” The woman Tech was pleased. “That means you can stay the night and give us time to throw you in the trainer for a couple of hours. You will love the sweet we have reserved for visiting dignitaries. It has a fabulous view and don’t worry about the cost. We can write it off for maintenance.”
Mark turned white bringing a smile to the Chief as Mark answered. “No! We have to get back.” The thought of spending the night scarred Mark for to many reasons to list. “Sorry but I cannot miss muster in the morning. Way too much to do before liftoff in a few days.” He did not dare tell them that he did not have specific authorization for the orbital flight let alone staying the night. Something he did not really want to test. As it was he was hoping he could sneak back on board the ship without being noticed to avoid questions. He had already spent too much time going over the fighter when they got back as it was. But he needed to make sure nothing was done to the fighter that would jeopardize their lives. Not to mention after the hold battle, sneak something aboard the Star Queen. “No, we need to get going but thanks.”
The Sgt. continued to go over details about the fighter's cockpit and reentry characteristics while the woman tech kept a steady stream of questions and compliments going to Diane right up until Mark closed the canopy while he apologized for cutting off conversation while waving good bye. After they cleared the rings racing out from the station at a thousand miles an hour with his hands on handles down inside the tub away from the control, Mark could not help taking a deep breath of relief to finely get out of there as he grabbed the controls and turned them onto down the reentry corridor back to London’s Central City Spaceport. “Can you believe people can talk so much? Another couple of minutes and we would have had to wait another 90 minutes.” Diane just looked at him and smiled. She was having a blast talking to everyone about everything and could have stayed for hours.
“Mark.” Mickey said. “I must apologize but I was very busy checking out the fighter when my detective subroutine tried to intervene. It thinks that you were being interrogated and analyzed by the Chief and woman tech. I think it is paranoid but then that is what it is supposed to do.”
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The two Techs joined several officers as they stripped off their coveralls and handed them to the techs that belonged to them. “That boy has been through a lot but he seems well rounded and exceedingly honest though he is not against leaving out a few of the details.” Said the woman that turned out to be a Captain. “I learned a lot about both the boy and the ship. It is going to take me days to go over everything on the recording.
“He is terribly guarded about everything.” said the Chief. now wearing a Vice Admirals uniform. “But he knows a lot about combat and tactics but would rather be just an engineer, repairing or building equipment or anything else and has a gift for it the way he was handling the tools and his understanding of each piece of equipment as we went around the fighter but was drafted to be an officer. Less than a week ago I might add.”
“He is terribly loyal to the ship so anything he does has better be for the ships benefit or you can forget it. Except that this little jaunt seems to have been more for impressing the girl than the ship.” said the Captain. “But then he is 21 with hormones. I think we under estimated him when we first saw him at the auction acting like an asshole jerk. I now understand what he was doing.”
"I want to know where the hell he got ahold of an FB-35 Tri-fighter?" Burst in the Supreme 5 star Admiral standing before them. “You said he bought a civilianized version of Tri-recon fighter at the auction almost half the FB's size and he leaves with a one of our newest upgraded F-35 Fighter Bombers. How is that possible? And you want to give him more weapons and besides he is not the ship's Captain, of who we know practically nothing about. It does not matter how good this boy is.”
“Actually we know quite a bit about the Ship's Captain from her reputation across the Empire in trade dealings. We also already know a lot about the woman because we know a lot about her crew. My plan is to control this ship by controlling this young man. By using him to introduce what this ship needs so the Captain has total deniability over any agreements or contracts between the ship and our government.” The English Captain let her hair down. “No connection, no strings, no possibility of any planet thinking they are anything but a tramp-transport.” They started walking. "He was drafted to be an officer only 5 days ago and already he is a Commander. You saw him at the auction and during the hold battle. What we have heard about him concerning these other incidents and what the ensign said and what he refused to say tells me he is quite an Officer. He is a natural. And it was obvious he had never even stepped into a grav fighter before and was flying it to the station only hours later.”
“Oh come now. Their standards must be pretty low to make a 5 day wonder a Commander.” The Admiral was skeptical.
“No not at all. It seems he was being trained to be an officer since he was 8 years old. He just did not know it. Hell he even has a chest full of meddles from his accomplishments as a cadet. Their form of the boy scouts I take it that everyone over the age of 8 has to join. Though most aren’t pushed as much as he was by what we have been told in our interviews with the rest of the crew we have been allowed access to or cornered around the ship."
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��Well how do you explain that recon fighter being on the ship for how many years with only the owner knowing it was a fighter?” The Admiral still thought his Vice Admiral Aid was off the deep end. “Are they pulling our leg and do they have anymore hidden away?”
“Do you know that there are a half dozen grav tanks in full battle ready condition and armed scattered around the city that belong to civilian collectors?” The Vice Admiral smiled. “Or the 3 Tri fighters in garages being restored or sitting in hangers next to hang gliders along with a couple of our early research model X-wings. The damn Mustang Tri wing recon fighter looks like and is painted like a sports car that was legally sold across half the Imperial Galaxy so don’t be so surprised.” Smiling with certainty. “No. They do not have any other fighters stashed away except for a couple of armed shuttles which we already knew about, that now includes a magazine full of the older Mk 56 torpedoes thanks to the Ensign, or now Commander.”
"He just left in what 4 years ago was one of our first line FB-35 fighter bombers that he did not arrive in." The supreme Admiral was starting to turn red.
"That is under investigation Admiral but it looks like the supply computer thinking he was from a reserve ship replaced his battle damaged Recon fighter after destroying it as to damaged to repair. Standard procedure on our planetary and forward deployed Battle Starbase supply and repair mobile stations we were using during the war. Who would even think that a civilian would land in one of our fighter basses with an old fighter? Though come to think of it our recalling and reactivating all the active reserve ships in the system probably had a lot to do with the supply computer replacing the Recon Fighter with the Fighter Bomber."
Tramp Wars: The Enemy Page 82