Tramp Wars: The Enemy

by Larry Roberts

  The Admirals had finely had to let his subordinates worry about that as bad news started flooding into his office about more important matters. Going over the Comm dispatches from the Black Dwarf, Admiral Ridgeway would have pulled out what little hair he had left if it had not been cut so short already, when the com beeped. “Sir; Vice Admiral Edwards and Captain Summers to see you.”

  “Yes send them in.”

  “Admiral we have found the third voice sir.” Said Vice Admiral Edwards as they took seats in front of the Supreme Admiral's desk. “Our Base CI-6 AI has identified the third voice as an AI probably attached to the boy. Our AI thinks that the boy’s AI is probably a class 10 AI from Imperial Earth technology but since our AI is only a class 6 we cannot be sure unless we get a closer look at it. If we can find it.”

  “What do you mean if we can find it?” Asked the Admiral.

  “Nothing on the boy is big enough to contain a computer that sophisticated nor anything he carried when he was at the station. It was not on the fighter since he had one of our reserve fighters from storage. The Vice Admiral said. “It is possible that he is in communication with it through his com unit all the crewmen carry.”

  “What, a tramp ship having an AI accessible to the entire crew? Not to mention the impossibility of having a class 10 AI but if that is the case that would explain why they have been able to survive with such a large crew.” The Supreme Admiral said.

  “No!” Said the Captain getting looks from both the Admirals. “If he had constant contact with the AI aboard ship then why did he orbit the ship for so long trying to find a place to land? And then if he was in contact with the ship’s AI; why call home over the fighter’s com when we had him in escort custody. And then why did his Captain have to call the station to try to stop him from de-orbiting. It just does not make sense. We had sensors on that Mustang since we emerged from the Ionization trail after the Attack started and we would have detected any transmissions to the ship. We did detect the boat transmissions to the city but could not fix a location since they were using multiple transmitters scattered around the city. No I think we are dealing with an individual AI attached to this young man. Very unusual but then he does have something that no one else around has and that is glasses. A pair of unusual glasses at that.”

  “You have got to be kidding. That is impossible.” The Admiral looked incredulous. "A class 10 in a little pair of glasses? No! Impossible. It has to be implanted inside him someplace. That would make more sense. But then I have never heard of a class 10 AI small enough to be implanted inside a body before either. Hell our smallest class 8 is the size of a fucking refrigerator and that was left over from the Empire and over 2,000 years old. No. It could have been in that satchel he was carrying?"

  “No, we checked the satchel and scanned him from head to toe leaving the military decks when I took them to the restaurant. His glasses is the only thing that fits. The old adage that the simplest explanation is probably correct. And I remember an old fairy tale told to kids about Empire Earth police with super glasses and an AI.” The Captain put a finger to her ear and listened for a second and then got up and headed for the door. “They just asked for special medical help for the ensign and flash cutters from the station. I am going over and take a close look again at this Collins and his AI after I ask our old Empire Core Military class 10 A.I. what it knows about any A.I.'s like this.”

  “Stop Captain. Sit back down.”

  Captain Summers turned dropping her hand from the door activation panel and returned to her seat baffled. “Admiral we need to find out what is going on with this AI and ship.”

  “In a minute Captain.” The Admiral grabbed a hand full of color coated chocolate candies with little M’s squiggled on one side of them. Plopping them into his mouth one at a time. “It seems we have gotten some Comms from the Battle Starbase we sent to the French system.” Taking a deep breath and a few more bites. “It seems that we or you under estimated the size of the pirate fleet attacking the French system. They have counted over a thousand enemy ships with more arriving daily.” Turning away from the Captain and Vice Admiral, he faced the three dimensional map that took up most of his office shaking his head. Finally turning back he frowned. “We have lost over half the fleet including some of the Battlecruisers. It seems Admiral Wellington thought it was a good idea to form a battle line and wait for the enemy with some 500 ships in that section of the system to approach in mass and envelope our fleet. Then ordered our fleet to use armor piercing shells against mostly light armored transports instead of following my orders to hit and run. The remnants of the fleet is trapped around France the French Capital planet behind their ring of defense forts that are slowly falling.”

  The Captain shook her head as she pulled her tablet sheet out of her thigh pocket. Tapping on it for a couple of seconds then slapped it down on the Admiral’s Desk. “I did not underestimate the size of the enemy fleet sir.” Pointing to a line in her report. “Yes I am guilty of dumbing it down, concentrating on the lower estimated numbers knowing that you would not believe the full truth about possible numbers but I did include them.” Tapping a line in the middle of the reports page that had the number and date of the original submitted report at the top corner. “It says there that the attacking fleet could very well number in the thousands if the Distant Outback Aliens get involved. Though they usually stay several hundred light years away from human controlled space until the planet no longer has space flight. I have suspected that we have been serving as a road block to their continued expansion but I did not expect them to try pushing through the crossing fingers this soon.”

  Taking a breath as the Admiral snapped up the report and started reading. A few minutes later he started kicking himself for glossing over that paragraph as the Captain continued.

  “We need to get this Armed Tramp Program going immediately Admiral or we will be looking at a similar attack on England.”

  The Supreme Admiral Slammed the sheet back down on his desk and snarled. “I told you I am not going to send civilians to the slaughter Captain.” Grabbing another hand full of candies he popped a few in his mouth then slid the bowl toward the Captain and tried to smile that turned into more of a grimace. “But you are right we need to keep ours and the fringe planets from starving and create a buffer. Since the damn pirates ignore patrols I am going to follow your advice and start sending out Armed Transports.”

  The Captain’s face turned from being pissed to baffled surprise. “I though you said…”

  “I said Armed Transports but they are going to have military crews.”

  The Captain buried her face in her hands and said. “Godstar Christ! That is the most stupid ass nine thing I have ever heard Admiral.” As the Admiral’s face turned to shock at the Captain’s words. “You send Transports out with military crews that don’t know shit about cargo or commerce or system to system trading and you will just get a lot of our guys killed. None of them would last six months. You can’t hide military crews. Everyone within hundreds of lightyears would now about them within weeks making them priority targets for the pirate enforcement squadrons and every petty planet Dictator or Gangster Boss they get near knowing you have to pay ransom for them even if they will call it fines. Most planetary Governments outside the English State is not going to let them land knowing they are an English military ship. And if you put ex-military crews on them you are still sending civilians to their deaths since they will still be treated as English military.” Standing up and leaning over the desk toward the Admiral. “The reason the Tramps will survive when no one else can is simply because they are thought of as below contempt for anyone to notice beyond the cargos they deliver.”

  The Admiral Stood up placing his beet red faced nose against the Captain’s. “You will follow orders Captain. Go check on this phantom AI. Make sure that damn junk fighter is not a threat and that the pilots are being taken care of. Then you will put together a program to requisition 10 confiscated Transports
, arm them appropriately, crew them with military crews and send them out across England into the Outback and start killing Pirates and reopen the trade lanes along the fringe.” Taking a sheet out from a desk drawer and slapping it down in front of the Captain. “Here are your orders. If they fail, it will be on your head since it is your plan. Do you understand Captain Summers?” Shaking his head frowning. “Make them look like tramps if you want with a few civilian volunteer Advisors but get them out there.

  Captain Summers was taken back with the sheer force of the Admiral orders. Fighting to control herself she bit back the automatic, Yes sir. She took a deep breath as she straightened up to attention. “Admiral Sir. I would need 20 transports for a pilot program to possible work. Sir. Eventually it will require hundreds to be effective as well as a number of Tramps sir. I still would like permission to arm several tramps as well.”

  The Admiral expecting a (Yes Sir) and nothing else. Frowned as he looked down at the reported losses in the French system and the numbers of the enemy. “Very well Captain, 20 English crewed transports to start. Then come up with a schedule to add transports once these prove the concept. I will think about adding your Tramps later.”

  She knew it was going to be a waste of time, ships and crews. But with 20 ships right out of the gate. The Admiral would have to admit defeat when all 20 were quickly destroyed or simply romped around the fringes being ignored by everyone without delivering much worthwhile cargo or taking out any pirates. Not that she wouldn’t give them the best chance of succeeding she could. Giving them the best weapons and the needed training but it took decades to train competent transport Captains and Trade Officers that knew how to make a profit. But then she realized the military crews did not need to make profits as long as they transported cargo. Though a carful line would have to be drawn that would not adversely affect civilian transport profits. Then another advantage downed on her. Getting multiple military transports to cooperate by convoying and setting up mutual defense zones would be much easier. Though getting enough cargo for multiple Transports to the same systems on a regular basses was going to be impossible away from the rim of the Outback where the navy transports would be needed the most. If they would even be allowed to land on most of the planets unless they were ex-military Civilian crews flying a civilian tramp flag and then that brought up all the disadvantages of civilian crews with none of the advantages of crews with long term experience trading between planets. No the only way she could see it working in the long run was for a mixture of navy Transports acting more like patrol ships transporting cargo along the main busy routs and Trampships actually transporting the majority of the Cargo to the outlying systems. If it worked at all. She still had the feeling that the navy transports would just be going to their deaths but at least it was a start.

  Frowning as she looked up into the eyes of a patiently waiting Admiral she tried to smile that turned into a grimace and said. “Yes Sir. I will have a preliminary plan for the Pilot Navy Transport program ready for you by tomorrow.”

  The Supreme Admiral Turned to the Vice Admiral sitting with his mouth half open not believing what just happened. “Before this all happened I sent you out to find out why I am having such a hard time getting an accurate count of reserve ships that can be reactivated in 30 days? With thousands of combat ships sent to them over the last 9 months, they should have a few hundred that have yet to be put into mothballs. What is the problem Edwards?”

  “What? Oh aaa. Yes Admiral. A sick look came over the Vice Admiral as he dug into his own thigh cargo Pocket and pulled out a PDA Sheet. He accessed it for a few seconds and then cleared his throat. “Well Admiral. Do you remember the end of the war and Parliament ordering the destruction of all enemy combat ships and the weeks you argued trying to prevent that?”

  The Supreme Admiral narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Go on.”

  “Well Sir. Do you remember something about sending old mothballed ships to the recyclers at our storage base on our 3rd moon?”

  Now looking baffled. “So. They sent the few remaining 100 year old battleships and destroyers to the breakers…..” The Admiral turned sick as a thought crossed his mind. “Don’t tell me that…?” The Supreme Admiral of the Fleet sat back staring at the Vice Admiral waiting for him to say what he knew could not be possible.

  Frowning as he took a deep breath the Vice Admiral continued. “The hundred year old destroyers are fine admiral. But every modern Battleship, Cruiser we sent to mothball storage is being stripped and gutted leaving only a shell and then 30 days after that the hull is scrapped. It seems the Lord of Parliament authorized the spending of a billion credits to upgrade the workbot and ship handling facilities at the storage base. We have been losing ships at a rate of half a dozen or so every day for months and I am afraid that the 30 day waiting period was somehow forgotten about. It seems the Lord of Parliament’s husband owns the scrap company cutting up the hulls and he was able to get a waiver to the 30 day waiting period.” Taking another deep breath as the Supreme Admiral turned beet red the Vice Admiral continued. “We have less than a hundred combat ship hulls left and I have no idea how many are combat capable if any or their class or tonnage though the heavy tonnage ships, battleships, seemed to have priority.” The Supreme Admiral stood up as the Vice Admiral hurried to finish what he needed to say. “I have ordered them to stop scrapping the hulls but I have no way of knowing if they are complying with that order since the Commandant of the Base just sighted Parliamentary orders in the Comm I just received from him. He sounds like he is benefiting from every hull that gets cut up but I don’t know how we would go about proving that.”

  “We are losing our newest ships costing hundreds of millions of credits so the Lord of Parliament’s Husband can pocket half a million credits of scrap metal?” The Supreme Admiral of the Fleet bellowed.

  “Aaa. I think there is more to it than that Admiral.” The Vice Admiral whispered almost afraid to say anything. “It seems that not one of the thousands of transports have been touched, even the ones hundreds of years old. Nor has the smaller practically weaponless Destroyer Escorts and Frigates. One other strange thing is that the Destroyers are being stripped but then dumped in the back of the base and listed as active giving a false number of combat ships in the bases records.”

  The Supreme Admiral of the Fleet sat back down shocked. With the home Fleet sent to rescue the French system he had been counting on reactivating at least a couple of squadrons until the Home Fleet could return. Now that the Home Fleet may never return the Reserve ships were critical. Shaking his head. He would send what few forces he had left to the 3rd moon and its base to rescue what was left while finding out whose heads were going to roll besides his, but that still left one hell of a big hole in their forces. “Captain Summers Prepare a list of Tramps and the weapons they will need in case I decide to go that route but not one gun until I give my approval. You can up your Armed English Transport program to 50 and I want the first of them training in system in a week and deployed in two. Dismissed Captain.”

  As the Vice Admiral started to get up he said. “Stay Edwards, we have much to talk about and ships to rescue if there are any left.” Shaking his head as Captain Summers headed for the hatch. “I have been fighting that damn Leftist Pacifist military hating Lord of Parliament since I took this job but I never thought she was capable of stabbing the fleet in the back like this.” Pounding his desk. “My fault for thinking she would be happy simply mothballing the damn fleet. At least now I know why she demanded the appointment of her Father as Commandant of the storage moon base and here I had hopped it was the one place I did not have to worry about his leftist Pacifist crap hurting the fleet. I was wrong.”

  Captain Summers closed the hatch behind her. It was even more imperative that she get the Tramp program going in spite of the Admirals refusal to face the fact that England was doomed without it. “Well let’s find out if this Collins kid has what it takes first and having a Class 10 AI for an assistant would
go a long way. Especially if it is half what the old stories say it is.

  ---------------------------

  A Crystal Tower sat in a cavern deep inside England Prime’s 3rd airless moon. A secret part of a storage and mothball fleet base no one would waste time attacking even if some enemy managed to invade the system. The Military Tower's Artificial Intelligent Controller mentally stretched as a request for information came in and was answered automatically with volumes. After winning the war single handedly, he had spent most of the last year taking naps and trying to amuse himself with the few requests and needs of the small developing pirate war as the military was drastically cut back. Especially with the recent deployment of the Home Battle fleet to rescue the French state taking the last naval ships from his direct control. But suddenly he was coming alive again as bells and whistles alerted him to an old request. A Crystal Tower's Controller buried deep inside a mountain on the 2nd planet moon of the Gas Giant (the inhabited planet and Capital of the State Called England 21) had put in a request to be alerted anytime any traces of Empyreal Inspector Judges came to the attention of any of the other main frame Tower A.I.'s belonging to the English system.