AMP Private War

by Stephen Arseneault

  George acquired several new sets of ore processing machines and a heavy transport ship to haul the Tantric ore once it had been refined. As the massive bays were emptied a decision was made to convert the captured massive ore freighter into our own space station. The ship had a solid infrastructure and with the 136 large cargo bays we were able to set up construction and repair docks for our own small fleet of ships.

  The captured Milgari cruiser and frigate fit nicely into a single bay. Once the bay doors were closed and sealed an oxygen environment was pumped in and refit of the ships was begun. The Colonel quickly identified a new problem. We had two new military ships and no crews to man them. The Colonel would have to go on a recruiting binge.

  We were also in need of a place to park our new station. A star system was located 43 light years distance from Bullwort and the rocky uninhabited planet it contained was claimed. A small hut with an emission beacon was dropped on the planet’s surface and the nation of Defiant was born and flagged to the planet Jarhead, aptly named by the Colonel’s men.

  The captured freighter also received a new name, the Suppressor. It would be our new base of operations as we decided it best to move away from Bullwort, we were placing the citizens in danger. The ore company and its finances, offices and production would remain on Bullwort, it was a legitimate business that needed a civilized home.

  With our increased Tantric ore production our mining operation was bringing in 15 million credits a month. Much of that was being spent as quickly as it came in. Our new cruiser, the Slayer, required a complete retrofit. Another transport ship was purchased and construction laborers hired.

  They would be ferried in for six month work contracts aboard the Suppressor. Never seeing the outside of the massive ship or knowing of its location. They worked for a shell corporation and so long as they received their credits there were no complaints. Along with the workers we had to hire managers, cooks, janitors and maintenance workers. Our once growing fortune was quickly becoming a stagnant account as the credits we received from our production went to funding our new nation.

  Bay one of the freighter, along with bay 136, were reconstructed as battle cannon batteries. The cannons in bay 136 could be deployed as top-side or bottom-side, giving a full coverage field of fire for the ship. The cannons were updated with our latest technologies which made them more powerful than any other weapon we had seen, short of the massive Milgari cannons.

  Bay two through four of the immense ship were set up as our government facilities and base of operation. This would include offices, maintenance and construction yards and even a handful of retail shops for daily needs. Bay five contained the living quarters for our new city in space.

  After three months back at the Grid the Colonel returned with a list of new recruits. More than a thousand retired Grid military officers and enlisted men were hired on as the new Defiant Defense Exchange, the DDX. A budget, along with bay six of the freighter was given to the Colonel for training his men.

  Bays 7-20 were set aside for ship construction and repair. The remaining bays at present contained the unrefined Tantric ore that we had captured from the Milgari. The ship’s drives were modernized and the Bridge updated with our modern flight computers. The undertaking had taking six months to complete. It was six months that we felt we had as the Milgari loss of Tantric ore had likely brought their ship construction to a near halt.

  It was a Tuesday when the Slayer was ready for its maiden voyage. The Colonels crews had been training non-stop in simulators and were eager to move into the real thing. The Slayer was christened and then lifted slowly out of bay seven.

  “This is DDX12, coming up from dock in three…two…one. Requesting permission to bring engines up to 3% for minimal thrust testing.”

  The flight controller responded. “Roger Slayer, confirmed for 3%. Proceed with filed flight plan. You are free to fly Slayer, now get off of my deck; I have loads of others ships waiting behind you.”

  The humor was appreciated by all.

  The Slayer moved slowly at first and then with a flash disappeared into the distance.

  “At 3%, moving to 5% in three… two… one…”

  The throttle was increased and the ship responded accordingly.

  “All systems are nominal, taking engines to full.”

  Cheers rang out back on the Suppressor as the newly commissioned DDX cruiser readied itself for full deployment. In less than a minute the Slayer was traveling at 320 SOL.

  I was on the Bridge of the Suppressor, watching on the monitors as I stood behind the flight controller. When the ship neared its top speed it dropped from our sensors. We would not know of success until it returned and slowed. The Slaughter followed along as a precaution.

  We continued the testing of the Slayer for several weeks until its new sister ship came online. The frigate Sleuth had been outfitted as a command ship with 26 layers of Tantric Aquamarine armor and more top of the line sensors than one could imagine. The Colonel had four new cannons added that would bring her firepower well above that of a Milgari battleship.

  Bucci managed to outfit the Sleuth with a new inhibitor field that could be broadcast from a single ship. The field went outward in a conical shape from five emitters on her bow. Again it was effective out to one quarter light-year and the field’s width could be adjusted from a kilometer across to a circle 10,000 kilometers in diameter. A slew of high power ion generators were used to keep it fully powered.

  With our new fleet coming along nicely I decided to pay a visit to the Grid. I was curious as to what the talk would be with so many military retirees finding gainful employment. I wanted to know if any SCore personnel might be interested in snooping around. These were Grid citizens and SCore would want to know what they were up to.

  After landing in Alpha bay I was directed to slip F-5. The F section of the bay was for foreign flagged travelers whose ships required an inspection. When the door opened on the side of George’s flier I stepped out to greet the inspector.

  The inspector spoke, “Whoa there buddy, please go back inside until the exterior inspection is complete. Should only take about 15 minutes or so.”

  The inspector stared at me with a firm expression until I stepped back up into the doorway.

  “OK, gear boxes appear sealed, check. Hull exhaust ports appear to be closed and I there is no indication of a leak, check. Ah… where is your hydrogen port Sir? I need to inspect the fueling connection and the integrity of the valve.”

  I stepped back to the console and pressed a button, a nearly seamless door popped open next to the inspector.

  “Whoa, you have some fine workmanship on this vessel Mr. Bumbalee. You don’t see a seam like that very often.”

  I replied, “Yes Sir, I sometimes fly in pirate space so my company spent the extra to have her heavily shielded. For a little flier she can take a wallop.”

  The inspector looked up and nodded. “Fuel valve integrity, check.”

  The inspector slowly worked his way around the ship. When he had come full circle he completed and signed a document which was then handed to me. “You have one of the cleanest ships I’ve seen in a while Mr. Bumbalee. Most of the buckets that fly in here are leaking some sort of toxin or another. It’s nice to see a ship that won’t poison me.”

  The inspector grinned. “Now if you will step down I will be doing the interior inspection. You can grab a beverage from the machines over there as you wait. If you are not familiar with the process, you will need the exterior and interior inspection reports before they will let you pass through the doors over there. Unless you are bringing some nasty little critters with you we should be done in about 20 minutes. You aren’t carrying any live cargo are you Mr. Bumbalee?”

  I replied, “No, nothing live. This is a simple business trip. And feel free to open any door or compartment, there is nothing to hide. I will declare to you that there are two blasters in the wea
pons locker. They are coded and locked in place so there should be no issues of theft while I’m visiting.”

  The inspector looked up into the ship. “I’ll have your release in a few Mr. Bumbalee. Please don’t re-enter the ship until my inspection is complete.”

  I moved over to the beverage machines and sat on a bench beside a Lurvian trader. The Lurvians were a peculiar species. They stood only a meter high and their shiny lavender skin gave them a cartoonish appearance. They had big yellow eyes with no eyelids and a small mouth with buck teeth that were used for cracking shellfish, their primary diet. When I sat down on the bench and smiled the Lurvian scooted to the other end.

  The inspector took nearly a half hour to complete his inspection. He waived me over when he stepped out of the flyer’s door. “You are in good shape Mr. Bumbalee. And I’ll have to say, that is one fancy ship you have there. Looks like you travel in comfort as compared to most. Here is your interior release. Enjoy your stay on the Grid.”

  The inspector walked with his clipboard towards his small office. I moved through the doors with my inspection reports and after a full body scan I was released out into the hallways of the Grid.

  Deck F was crowded with alien travelers. I was constantly amazed that with the travels I had done there were always new species visiting the Grid that I had never seen. Two tall brown skinned aliens with hard plates covering their backs strode past on their way to whatever business they had. The bone coverings on their shoulders, backs and hips made them look like they could curl up into a ball and be impervious to anything that attacked. It may have been an effective adaptation at one time, but with the advent of a blaster their protective shell had become largely cosmetic.

  My first stop was to a local bar where I tossed around a few credits to buy rounds in an attempt to get the latest gossip. Word of a new Diamond rich planet named Petula was making the rounds. I would pay it a visit and stake a claim as it would work to enhance our cover as a mining operation.

  Word had also come of lower activity by the Milgari in the sector of the Prassi system. Word had spread of a massive battle with the Milgari. I pressed for more information, but there was little to be had, some Prassi had survived and were on the run, there world had been captured.

  The only talk of the Grid was of an increase in surveillance of all aliens onboard. SCore was watching and identifications were checked often. When I turned to watch the news monitors at the bar I saw the same faces as before talking about how wonderful peace with the Milgari would be. The best I could manage was to sigh and to shake my head at how vulnerable so many people were. I left the bar in a funk.

  After a quick walk past my old apartment I made my way over to the gun range. Jeb’s cousin had taken over the business.

  I stepped in to say hello. “Maracus? I’m a friend of Jeb’s.”

  Maracus looked up from behind a counter. “I know who you are Mr. Bumbalee.”

  I looked around at a largely empty storefront. “Where’s all your customers?”

  Maracus looked up. “Customers? You know where all the customers are Mr. Bumbalee. They are all out there working for Jeb. I’m stuck here in this empty store all day.”

  It was true; we had taken the primary customers from the range. The others that had frequented had stopped coming when their military friends had gone AWOL.

  I placed my hands on the counter and then held out my credit store. “Well, I believe there are plenty of others out there who would find this range and what it offers very entertaining. There are 15,000 credits in here for you to use for marketing.”

  “I would bet that if you were to advertise this place as being free for a couple weeks you could draw in a lot of curious people. Some would turn into customers. If you have any other needs from Jeb don’t hesitate to send him a note. It may take a couple weeks for him to respond, but I’m betting he will. Just know that the work he is doing for us is invaluable and that he is interested in keeping the range running for when he comes back.”

  Maracus looked up at me, “And when is that Mr. Bumbalee? When is Jeb coming back?”

  I leaned on the counter as I spoke, “As I said, Jeb is quite valuable to us. He is like a part of our family now Maracus. And that makes you a part of our family too. If you have any needs here, don’t hesitate to ask us about them. We are willing to offer a hand if needed.”

  When the transfer of credits was complete I rented an AK for some fun. Maracus joined me as we blasted through nearly a case of rounds. When I left he was smiling and was already on the comm to his friends to tell them the news. Two weeks of free shooting was coming up and he needed to get the word out.

  After leaving the range I made my way up to Jasper’s. I sat down for lunch and observed the Messengers who came and went. A representative for Michael Felix had a permanent booth setup for Messengers who sought work. The service was now under complete control of Felix. I was startled when I looked up at a monitor that was displaying his face.

  He was running for a council seat to represent the Alpha section. The seat in question encompassed the powerful and important Alpha section docking bay, the commerce and industry section adjacent to the Alpha bay and the living quarters of some 524,000 residents. He would be one of 20 councilmen representing the Alpha section of the Grid and her more than ten million residents.

  I had no doubt Michael Felix would win the seat as he was professional and worked hard to achieve everything he had accomplished. I was curious to see how he would manage when it came to the game of politics where he would have to play largely by the rules of someone else. I was sure he would adapt.

  As I sat on a stool by the bar I decided to see what the local chatter was. I first bought rounds for the two sots sitting next to me and then moved on to the rest of the crowd. Within minutes I had a handful of eager takers gathered around my stool.

  I spoke, “So, I’ve been away from the Grid for quite some time. Anybody have anything of interest that they have heard of? Is this area of Alpha section worth relocating to? Is it fit for a small import business?”

  A man wearing a red shirt with a picture of a Marine aiming a blaster at some defenseless farm animal spoke first. He was already beyond one too many drinks for the day. “I tell you… I tell you… I tell you I saw this alien with two heads the other day. Both of them was a runnin’ their mouths and neither one would shut up. This other Omrin fellow got up and punched one of them right in the snout. Knocked him out cold! The other head turned them around and ran off with the one head bobbin’ all over the place. Darnedest thing I ever saw!”

  Several of the other Messengers around me grabbed his shoulders and shoved him out of the group. He wandered off towards the other end of the bar. The next to speak was a woman. “Ever since Felix took control I’ve only had two jobs a month. That’s about half of what I was doing before. His crony over there is handing out the good jobs to his pals. I would complain, but there is no one to complain to.”

  In my years in the Messenger service there had always been an ombudsman available to settle disputes. Michael Felix had done away with the position and assumed the power that it had previously held. Every decision now benefited Michael Felix before benefiting anyone else.

  A third Messenger then spoke up. “Well Mr. if you do locate here you might be in for a jump pretty soon. I hear the Milgari are getting closer and we may have to pick up and run again before long. Sure would have liked to stay in this sector until I get my ship paid for.”

  I questioned him on the Milgari. “So, have there been any attacks or anything? I mean, have the Grid forces had to defend the… Grid?”

  Another Messenger spoke up. “I heard another species got wiped out. The Pachis or something like that. It was a sector we bypassed during the last Jump. If that’s true, the Milgari aren’t far off. I got two daughters just starting school this next semester. Makes me nervous to be in one of the outer sections of this ship. I lo
st a cousin last time when those mammoth cannons out there failed to stop an attacking ship in time. Just don’t want my daughters to have to worry about that.”

  A fourth Messenger then stepped into the conversation. It was Miles Hardig. I had worked with him on a couple relay runs in the past. He seemed a straight up guy. “They have been catching a few to many spies around here for my comfort. I can see why though with that corrupt bunch we elected to run this show. And I will be voting for Felix come this next election. He might be difficult to work with, but I’m certain he’s not a spy.”

  The group erupted in loud conversation. When they had settled down the woman who had spoken earlier again joined in. “If that clown gets elected I think it just shows the sad state of affairs around here. I’ll be voting for whoever runs against him and I’ll tell you the one simple reason why. A girl’s gotta eat!”

  Again the group erupted in dispute. A shoving match ensued and the bartender was quick to break it up. When he got back behind the bar he looked directly at me and spoke. “Sorry Sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. The owner has a policy of no rough stuff in here. Anyone who is involved is asked to leave, that includes those who weren’t involved in the pushing Sir. You can return once things have settled down.”

  I nodded in agreement and held out my credit store to pay my tab. Myself and the group that had been surrounding me were soon out in the main hall. The drunk put his hand on my shoulder. “Ex… excuse me… but… when are you going to be back?”

  I gently removed his hand. “Oh, I think I’ll let things settle for a while. And if I were you, I would head home and sleep that off. And here, take a mint for Pete’s sake, you have a gutter breath going on there that is melting the buttons on my shirt!”

  The drunk looked at me for several seconds before responding, “Thank you Sir. I’ll think about that on my way home.” The man stumbled off down the hallway.