AMP Private War

by Stephen Arseneault

  That afternoon I was back in the hangar. The Colonel had his crew there, all seated in one corner. He walked over and addressed me. “Don, we were just discussing our options with Gy and Rita. Both are interested in taking a look at that frigate to see if we can make it into a fighting tool for our team. Frig stated that he knows how their new tech works so the ship itself should be available for our use.”

  “I was thinking we could add some storm ports on the side where we don’t have to go extra vehicular to blow holes in a ship we are assaulting. If we can beef this frigate up enough we might be able to cruise right up to the next one and take her down before they know what hit ‘em. Heck, we could charge all six decks at once!”

  “These guys sitting over here, they are warriors. It’s what they are trained for, it’s what they thrive on, it’s what they are happiest doing. That assault we just did, we took some hard hits, but not a one of those Ghouls over there would trade that half hour of fighting for any holiday they have ever had! Let us convert that frigate into an assault ship, that is, after we fumigate her. Hahahahaha!”

  The frigate had been parked on a small uninhabited planet in a nearby system. It was a half days travel, but we did not want to bring any attention to our base at Bullwort. She was disguised by blowing dust up on her from the planet where she rested. All systems were powered down and ion sweeps were done to stop all battery powered devices that she carried. Frig rigged up several signal inhibitors to mask any errant signal that she may send out. She was left abandoned, quiet and waiting for our use.

  I gave the Colonel the go-ahead to begin his work on the frigate. His people weren’t designers or ion techs, but they knew how to follow orders. And the promise of an assault ship they could call their own… well, that was an extreme motivator all on its own.

  Without the Prassi to take our extra Tantric ore it was piling up. Gy was given the go-ahead to use whatever he wanted to harden the captured frigate. Rita would update its engines and drives while George purchased new flight computers to run her systems. Even with the new purchases our bankroll continued to grow faster than our expenses. I set aside five million credits as a widows and orphans fund for the Gray Ghouls. It would give them one more sanity handle to hold onto during our fight with the Milgari.

  After a month back at Bullwort we decided that we needed intel on the whereabouts of the Milgari. Were they now constructing ships for an attack on the Grid? Had they moved into the abandoned Prassi space? These were questions that we needed answers to. I was soon touching down on the Grid with George’s newly beefed up flier.

  “Proceed to Alpha bay C-12 and welcome back to the Grid Mr. Bumbalee.” I acknowledged the controller and settled into C-12. As usual, Frig stayed with the flier as I went for a visit with Dearest Kreed. When I arrived and knocked on the door of her apartment there was no answer. When I turned around there were two men standing behind me.

  “Can I help you fellas?”

  One of the men held out a SCore badge. “You will need to come with us for a few minutes Mr… ?”

  I replied, “The name is Bumbalee, Rex Bumablee. Can I inquire as to what this is about? Is Miss Kreed in some kind of trouble?”

  One agent looked at the other and then back. “Just come with us please. We are going to need to ask you a few questions Mr. Bumbalee, nothing to be alarmed about, just routine stuff.”

  I turned to walk with the men in an attempt to not be suspicious. “Am I in some kind of trouble? SCore? Is that the name for the Grid police department?”

  One of the men smiled and chuckled to the other. “You could say that Mr. Bumbalee. We are investigators who have been assigned the Kreed case. You have just entered that case by knocking on her door.”

  The men took me to an office just off the main Beta section hall and into a room. “We’ll get right down to it Mr. Bumbalee. I’m sure your time is valuable as is ours. What business did you have with Miss Kreed?”

  I fumbled in my pocket for a paper. “I have a correspondence from Miss Kreed about her being a reseller of some garments that my company makes. The Grid is a big market in a condensed space. If I can get a line moving here it should provide good margins. Miss Kreed was a buyer for the store she worked. Is there something about her that I should know?”

  The agent replied, “We are just checking up on things Mr. Bumbalee. Since all Humans in this sector came from the Grid, you should be somewhere in our database. I had a moment of panic before I responded. “Well, it’s not something that I’m proud of, but my parents were settlers out there.”

  “I didn’t know my last name because they had changed theirs. I was abandoned just after we moved there. The colony died off and a Malcom woman sort of adopted and raised me.”

  The lies were coming out as fast as I could make them up. The two SCore agents sat back in their chairs, taking in the story as it came out of me.

  “I have been to the Grid a couple times on business. I tell you, it is nice to be around others of your kind. But I don’t have the means to move back here and establish myself, so I keep on trying to build the business so that it is one day a possibility.”

  One of the agents leaned in. “You know Rex. We have repatriation programs available for those who want to settle. We still have about 20% available for expansion before population curbs set in. I’m sure we could get the paperwork started if you are interested.”

  I looked down at the floor for several seconds before responding. “I looked over the paperwork on my last visit. When I move to the Grid I don’t want to be hooked on some government handouts. I’ve managed to survive and largely take care of myself out there and I would want to do the same here. I’ll be back, but it will be when I’m able to cover my expenses. From what I hear there is a large dependent population here now.”

  The other agent then leaned forward. “You are right about that. Dependency has done nothing but grow under this administration. Almost half of the people on the Grid don’t even work now. Makes it tough for others to get ahead…”

  The first agent put his hand on the other agents shoulder and pinched. “Now, I’m sure Mr. Bumbalee isn’t interested in Grid politics. And from the information we have available to us it seems your story checks out… at the moment. We have your biometrics now Mr. Bumbalee. Just make sure you keep your nose clean in that business of yours and watch out who you associate with.”

  The agent gestured for me to stand. “Before I go Sir. Miss Kreed… was she in some kind of trouble? Was there an issue with the company she worked for? I guess what I’m asking is, do I need to start looking for a new business contact?”

  The agent looked me in the eye as he stood. “I’m afraid Miss Kreed is no longer with us.” I glanced at the other agent and he made a slicing gesture across his neck with his open hand. “She was murdered under unusual circumstances. We have the guy in custody for it. We are just trying to tie up some loose ends that’s all. We thank you for your cooperation Mr. Bumbalee. You are free to go and remember… SCore is watching.”

  I left the agents office and made my way to the closest bar. I had a drink and some lunch before I headed out to the retail shops along the main hallway. I attempted to make buyer contacts in several of the larger stores, but those efforts were unsuccessful. I knew I was being tailed so I had to feign a look of disappointment with every turn-down.

  By late afternoon I headed back to George’s flier and left the Grid. My contact was gone, no doubt murdered by her handlers over their suspicions about her possibly being a double agent. Without that contact we had no way of knowing where to look for the Milgari.

  Our arm of the galaxy was immense. We could spend years searching sectors without finding a clue. On the ride back to Bullwort I wondered if it was not time to finally confront Zimmerman about the Cortes rendezvous with the Milgari. I was sure he knew where the Milgari could be found as he knew of and had fought alongside the Prassi.

  When we arrived at Bullwort I called everyone in to discuss it.
“We have two options here. We can go out to the Felgar sector and see if we can pick up a tail, or the Prassi system for that matter, or we can attempt to make contact with Zimmerman and see what he can offer. You all know as much as I do so I’m looking for opinions one way or the other.”

  With the addition of the Gray Ghouls our ranks had swelled to almost 90 patriots. I looked around the room and wondered how long we could keep our little war a secret. George had heard mumblings from some of the residents of Bullwort about the amount of traffic we had moving in and out of the system. They worried about drawing attention to a place that had finally achieved peace and quiet after the extended war with the Gresshans. I could hardly blame them for their worry.

  After a half hour of discussion the team came back with their decisions. The Gray Ghouls were happy without the inclusion of Zimmerman. They wanted the freedom to make their own decisions without being pushed in one direction or another by anyone associated with the Grid military. Zimmerman was a rogue, but they valued the freedom that came with acting alone.

  The pilots, engineers and our facilities people all had the same recommendation. We had done well getting to where we were and they all liked not being associated with any government. I was proud of the team we had assembled. They were hard core patriots and dedicated to the cause. The decision was made to remain on our own. We would begin our scouting missions the following day.

  The frigate, newly named the Slaughter, would not be ready for trials for several more weeks. Our latest technologies had been added to her, including 32 layers of Tantric laced with Aquamarine. As a frigate she would be able to take a hit better than any ship we had ever known.

  Her twin ion cannons now packed a punch that was twice that of a Milgari battle cannon. With the addition of power that could be switched to negative ionics she would be formidable in any one-on-one fight. The ships armory was loaded with blasters and conventional weapons, a compliment of ion bombs were at her disposal.

  Rita was hard at work attempting to convert our blasters to the same negative power, but the goal was elusive as the circuits and feeds needed for that function could not be made that small. I was also uncomfortable with the idea of a negative blaster falling into enemy hands during a raid. The self-destruction of a ship was an easier task than taking down a vessel that had not been rigged for such. I asked Rita to instead focus her efforts on making what we had better.

  I called upon all eight Defenders to participate in our scouting. We would move from sector to sector in an attempt to pick up a tail on a Milgari vessel. From there we would follow it to its destination. During our scans of the sectors we would drop matrix probes that would record any ship movements in their area.

  The probes would all record and then broadcast a single burst each day of what they had detected. The burst would be directional with all probes pointing to the same location. A single probe placed at that location would then send information to a small moon in our sector. From there the signal would be relayed to our hangar at Bullwort. We would take no chances with leaving a trail back to our location.

  I sent the Fist to lay probes in areas that would tell us of an attack coming on the Grid. I held little hope of their effectiveness as whatever ships passed them by would arrive at the Grid before the signals reached Bullwort. It’s only merit would be of a warning of a fleet that was massing for an attack. Frig programed the final probe to broadcast that information to the Grid if a massing was indeed taking place. We could only provide a week of warning at best, the Grid would have to make due.

  After two months of scans we had our first hit on a Milgari ship. It was a cruiser and two frigates moving through the Wasky sector. The Frost had detected their signature and had broadcast a signal back towards our single probe with their location and trajectory. The frost had then gone on to tail the three ships.

  I turned on a heading for the Wasky sector, towards the first star system the ships would encounter. It was a four day journey with our engines at full. Wasky was the next furthest sector beyond Felgar. I was eager to see what we would find; at our speed we would arrive a day earlier than the Frost.

  The star system had a red giant sun. There were two previously frozen planets that had thawed due to the expanding reach of the sun’s heat. A mining colony had been established on one of the planets with a space dock hovering above it in orbit. A massive freighter, larger than any freighter that I had ever seen, was parked at the dock. Smaller ore haulers were busy moving whatever it was that was being mined up to the massive ship.

  I spoke, “Frig. Can you get a scan of what that is they are mining? If it’s something important I say we slice up that freighter and do whatever damage we can to the mine down below. Heck, even if it doesn’t seem important we can do that.”

  Frig punched in the scan parameters as he spoke. “Sir, I think we should observe for a while. We might be able to pick up a few trajectories if other ships enter the system. That freighter appears to be less than half full Sir. It could very well be months before it is ready to leave.”

  I leaned back in my chair. “Good points my man. And I just had a thought. If that cargo is indeed valuable, I would bet the Colonel and the Ghouls would love to steal it and fly it back to Bullwort. When the Frost arrives tomorrow we can send her back to arrange it. I’m sure those Marines are eager to get back out here and get at it. Although, taking down a freighter might not be much of a challenge for them.”

  Frig turned towards me. “Sir, tomorrow there will be a cruiser and two frigates. Perhaps those targets would be somewhat more of a challenge to the Colonel and his men. And they may want to consider boarding and capturing that cruiser Sir. It might be a good addition to our small but growing fleet.”

  I turned to look at Frig. “You Sir are brilliant! I don’t know why I had not thought of this before. Those Milgari ship docks that are constructing those big cannons and the ships to carry them… they need supplies. We should be attacking those supply lines! That is something that we are much better suited to do than all-out war.”

  I looked out the front screen at the red star before us. “You know Frig, I’m not sure why, but we do make a great team my friend. The things we each say and think are far enough off from each other that it somehow yields great ideas. We’ll leave a probe with a message to squirt over to the Frost, let’s head back and do some planning. I think the Colonel is going to be a very happy Marine!”

  The deep scan of the freighter came in just as we turned to leave. “Sir, hold up. The scan Sir, that freighter, she is loaded with Tantric Sir.”

  Frig frantically punched the keys on his keyboard. “Enough ore Sir, to cover several thousand Milgari ships. And looking at the size of that mine down there, I would say it has been in operation for several years. Sir, this may be one of the major supplies of Tantric for them. If we steal that freighter when it is full… we could potentially keep 2,000 ships from ever being produced. I think your supply line strategy could be very effective Sir, especially if we can hit all or substantially all of their Tantric production. This could be a turning point for the Grid, at a minimum it would buy us more time.”

  We dropped a probe and headed back towards Bullwort. I was excited to give the Colonel our news, news that we would be cutting deep into the Milgari supply lines. It was a chance to cut the legs out from under an assault of the Grid before it happened. It offered a chance for the Grid to finally make a stand.

  Chapter 9

  When we landed on Bullwort I went directly to the Colonel. “Harper, have I got a job for you!”

  I explained the freighter, the cruiser and frigates that we had seen. I asked about the progress of the Slaughter and was told that they had already taken her out for her initial trials.

  The Colonel spoke, “We have about a week of work to finish everything off and she will be ready for combat. The majority of what’s left is environmental; kitchens, food storage and we still have one deck remaining to clean the funk out of. Af
ter that she is ready.”

  “Oh, and we need to hire cooks. I have a couple in mind that I served with, at least one of them would jump at the chance to once again serve chow up to these knuckleheads. I’ll need a trip back to the Grid to make it happen.”

  I slapped him on the shoulder. “Make it happen Colonel, and if there are any other crewmen you think you need then take the initiative to get them onboard. You have a full understanding of the need to maintain our secrecy, so with anyone you contact I’m sure you will use discretion.”

  The Colonel smiled and slapped my shoulder as he turned. I went up on one leg, fighting to maintain my balance; it was a jarring that my neck was not in need of. The Colonel strode off, spitting Omega root as he went. He had a job coming up for his Ghouls and he wanted to inform them of it.

  That afternoon the Colonel left for the Grid. The other Defender pilots had received the message about a raid on the Milgari freighter. They would continue their scans until such time as we would all meet up at a rendezvous point. A system with several uninhabited planets had been located a dozen light years distance from the Milgari mine. From there we would plan the final pieces of our raid.

  Two weeks passed before the Colonel returned with 175 new crewmen. He had recruited Marines, cooks, mechanics, maintainers and even a guy to run the laundry. All were retirees and all were eager for the adventure. The oldest crewman was now an 81 year old cook named Willers. His former antics in the chow line had earned him a spot on the Colonel’s crew. He had something to say to each Marine before shoveling a load of slop onto their plate. It was usually sarcastic and berating, but the men loved it.

  The following day the Slaughter left her makeshift dock with a full complement of supplies and a crew that was eager to put her to use. The new crewmen became skilled at their assigned tasks during the ride out to the rendezvous point. A conventional gun range had been added so the new recruits could become familiar with the new weapons and tactics. The Colonel ran drills 24 / 7 and his crew thrived under the intense training regimen. They were true professionals with a desire to make use of their skills.