Junkyard Dogs 1: The Scrapyard Incident

by Phillip Nolte

  "What about something that would knock them all out?"

  "Very risky, Commander," she said. "Whatever we do would affect most of the first deck and probably part of the second as well. If someone gets a little too much..." She shrugged. "There's just too much of a chance that we'd hurt some innocent people."

  "I understand," said Kresge. "Change of subject. Long distance communications. Have we got anything? Helen Murdock told me that there was a Stage I communicator in the spindle."

  "Yes," said Larsen. "There's a Stage I Whitney console in the old communications room. It might take a little while to get it up and running though, it hasn't been used in years. We had to move a bunch of old junk out of there just to get at the console."

  At that moment Steuben returned with three additional wired handsets. Kresge looked them over and nodded in approval.

  "Where we can plug these in, Steuben?" asked Kresge.

  "There's a waste collection facility just down the corridor from here."

  "Take me there, I need to talk to our people in the spindle."

  "Follow me, Commander."

  "I think we'd better set up a permanent communications post there," said Kresge. "We'll need someone to constantly monitor any handset communications and runners to go between us and the post with any new developments. Round up a few people who're looking for something to do, Dan. We'll use them to get communications up and running."

  "I've got just the people for the job," said Gibbons. "Renquist! Collins! " he called out. The two older men who had been assigned the task of monitoring the viewscreen turned and looked as their names were called out.

  "Come on over here, you two, I've got a different job for you," said Gibbons. The two men got up from their table eagerly and joined the group surrounding the two leaders.

  "I'll bet Irene and Allison could find us some people who'd be more than happy to help out too," said Kresge.

  A quick consultation with Irene yielded two teen-aged girls who were full of energy and eager to contribute to the cause. The group made their way out of the common room and loaded onto a couple of the electric carts. Within a few minutes, the carts stopped outside a large, double doorway on the south side of the corridor. Steuben used his key card to open the door. The group crowded inside. The area was dimly lit and there was the sound of pumps, clacking valves and gurgling liquids.

  "Block this door open," said Kresge.

  Two of the men went searching for something to hold the door open.

  Steuben went over to the main control panel that was covered with various colored lights, digital readouts, an array of toggle switches and several rotary controls. Two swivel seats for the operators, only required for periodic maintenance, were mounted to the deck in front of the panel. He pointed to the receptacle for the handset on the lower right corner of the control panel.

  "The handset plugs in here," said Steuben as he unwound the cord and plugged the handset in. He then pushed the transmit button and put the handset to his ear.

  "This is Orville Steuben from...um... Command Central calling the spindle, anyone there?"

  Within ten seconds he received a reply.

  "Spindle here, what can we do for you?"

  "I have Commander Kresge on my end...," Steuben hesitated for a second. "Who do you want to talk to, Commander?"

  "Jane Tresham or Perry Allen, either one. I'll want to talk to both of them before we get done here."

  Allen came on the line.

  "Allen, here."

  "This is Kresge."

  "Commander, it's good to hear your voice again."

  "Likewise, Allen. First things first, we're setting up a full-time communications post down here on our level. I'm actually calling from it now. I know you're keeping someone near your handset station, we'll do the same. We'll have to use runners, but I can probably get a message within five minutes or less. Tell everyone up there. Now, what've you got for me?"

  "Counting me, we have a total of fourteen people up here, Commander. Eight of them are engineering types, technicians, and the like. The others are security people."

  "Any weapons, other than the stun rods?" asked Kresge.

  "That depends on your definition of a weapon. We've got some pipes and hand tools, but nothing I'd really call a weapon."

  "Have you located the Stage I communications console?" asked Kresge.

  "I've already looked it over, Commander. It had a layer of dust on it but it looks fine. We ran a diagnostic and everything but the transmit function is working normally. We're afraid the terrorists might have damaged both the Stage I and the Stage II dishes when they fired on the station."

  "How bad is it?"

  "Hard to tell without more info," replied Allen. "Tresham and I are working on it. I'm afraid somebody's going to have to go outside and see whether or not the dish is damaged and then assess how bad the damage is. If it's just the wiring that got fried, we might be able to bypass. If the dish is totally destroyed, we'd have to rig some kind of replacement assembly. That could take time."

  "Can you do it?"

  "Yeah, I think so. At least I can go outside, there's a half a dozen utility suits down here, in a room near the auxiliary airlock."

  "What about the necessary hardware?"

  "If I were out in the 'Yard, I could find something easily. Here, on the station, it might take a bit more doing. We're working on it. If we can get the dish problem worked out, we could probably have communications up in less than an hour. Trouble is, we can't really test it without giving it away."

  "Keep at it, Chief. If Jane Tresham is handy, I'd like to talk to her. Before you go, good work, Allen."

  "No problem, Commander."

  There was a short lag while Allen rounded up Tresham and had her come over to the handset station.

  "Commander Kresge. Nice to finally talk with you."

  "Likewise, Ms. Tresham."

  "Jane is fine, Commander."

  "Okay, Jane. I've got Dee Washington here, she'll be my on-site advisor on station technical matters, but I've got a fairly complicated technical question."

  "Shoot, Commander."

  "Tell me how difficult it would be to decrease the O2 and increase the CO2 content in the atmosphere on deck one, preferably on the portion of the wheel that has the governor's suites in it."

  Tresham thought for a moment.

  "We might be able to do it, Commander, but I'll need a little time to check out how to go about it. The systems aren't designed to operate that way and it would take some software modifications but it's just possible that we could coax them into it."

  "So, that's a yes? You can do it?"

  "I think so, Commander. Actually, altering the O2 content on level one is a pretty good idea. Most of the people on the station are housed on the second and third decks. The first deck is mostly businesses and government offices and, if most of the occupants went back to their quarters as ordered, that would make the raiders almost the sole occupants on that deck."

  "The more I learn about this part of the plan, the better I like it," said Kresge. "Whether we actually do it or not remains to be seen, but I want you to work on it like it's going to be implemented. Call Washington when you have some estimates. The main thing we want to accomplish is to impair these bastards but we have to be careful. Whatever we do with the atmosphere would have to be done gradually so as not to alert them that something is going on."

  "I understand, Commander, I'll let you know when we have some estimates. It shouldn't take too long."

  "As I told Allen, we're setting up a permanent communications post down here in the waste treatment station on deck five south. It's the closest wired point to our hideout. I plan to have someone here at all times and several runners to shuttle information back and forth. When there is anything you need to discuss, just let these people know and they'll come and get me."

  "Will do, Commander. It really feels good to be doing something."

  "I'm glad to hear you say that
because we have a lot to do yet. Talk to you later."

  "Roger, Commander."

  Chapter 34

  UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard the wreck of FNS Terrier, October 7, 2598.

  The mood on the bridge of the old destroyer was uproariously upbeat as the three defenders rode the emotional high of their success. After shedding their spacesuits and going back onto the bridge of the Terrier, they excitedly rehashed their various parts in the battle over and over. After what they'd just accomplished, they couldn't help indulging in a small celebration.

  "We did it!" Carlisle sang out. "We got 'em! Hawk, Harris, you guys were awesome!"

  She embraced both of the men in turn.

  "I still can't believe it," said Harris. "Everything worked out almost like we planned it!"

  "Except when some daft old haggis was after usin' the wrong ammunition," said Hawkins. All three laughed at that.

  "What did you think when that beam weapon was coming towards you?" asked Carlisle.

  "Man, that was hairy..."

  And so it went. After a half hour or so the mood began to come down as the adrenalin gradually worked off and the dreaded realization that they would probably need to fight another battle began to set in. They were all beyond tired, none of them had slept well for the equivalent of several days, yet they were still going, hyped up and emotionally way over the edge.

  "Okay, team," said Harris. "We need to figure out what to do for the next round. I assume we'll be facing a similar ship, but we won't be able to take them by surprise like we did this last one. Besides, the tracking station is gone, how do we set up a shot."

  "You heard their last communications," said Carlisle. "I don't think they know what hit them or where it came from. If we're comfortable with that, then this is a pretty good spot we're in right now. The question now is how do we create a kill zone and then lure them into it?"

  "You're saying that we have to somehow get them to do exactly what we want them to," said Harris. "Any ideas?"

  "I've been thinking about it," said Carlisle. "We have the second sled and the two boosters you guys took from the tracking station before they destroyed it. We could strap a booster to some wreckage and use it as a decoy to get the raider's attention. If we set it up right, they'll end up aligned properly. Actually, it would probably be smart to use the other booster and the Rover II as backups if they don't take the bait or manage to destroy the first decoy before we can get them. As a last resort, we could still try to ram them."

  "And how would we go about deploying the decoys?" asked Harris.

  "With you two running the ship and the weapon, I guess that responsibility would fall to me," replied Carlisle, straightening her shoulders. Harris frowned, but she appeared not to notice and continued. "Let's see what we've got." She brought up the Scrapyard inventory holo display on her wrist computer and made a few changes to reflect the latest configuration.

  "Okay, Tamara...tracking station gone...Terrier here...," She deleted the tracking station to create a void in the center clearing and moved the Terrier to her current position among the cluster of ships near the access corridor. She nodded to herself. "There, that should be good enough. Okay, let's say we keep the Terrier in this cluster of ships here." She pointed to the appropriate area in the holo. "Then we need the enemy to come down the access corridor...here. I could take the Rover II, maybe with my ram attached so they don't know for sure what they're looking at, and wait right near the outside entrance of the corridor. When I'm certain they can't avoid seeing me, I'll come down the corridor as fast as I can and go across the clearing to somewhere over on the other side from you guys...like right here." She pointed to a small cluster of ships that appeared to include two old battlecruiser hulks and was in pretty decent alignment for a shot from the Terrier. One of the hulks had taken a pulse beam strike from the first enemy ship earlier. Harris looked extremely doubtful.

  "Okay... and then what?"

  "They come down the corridor after me. You'll notice that the cluster I picked won't allow them to simply fire down the corridor, they'll have to come into the clearing."

  "Alright, they're in the clearing, what's next?"

  "We'll have a booster strapped to some similar-looking wreckage as a decoy. We set the decoy in motion to draw their attention and their fire, and you shoot them in the drive tubes, just like we did with the last one."

  "How do you propose to manage that?"

  "I'd have to wait till they get into a favorable position, hit the controls on the booster, and then jump off over to the wreckage. If I use one of the cruisers as a base, I could hook a tether onto it and use the tether to reel me over."

  "You'll what?"

  "I said that I'll just leap off from the decoy to the safety of the wreckage. After you engage the enemy ship, I'll get back on the Rover II and be ready to ram him or use the other booster as a backup decoy if I need to." There was a silence that stretched out for a long moment.

  "You propose to do all this while they're shooting in your direction with a pulse beam cannon?"

  "Well...yeah."

  "I can't let you do that."

  "Why the hell not...Sir?" She looked surprised.

  Her nonchalance at the obvious danger upset him, maybe more than it should have.

  "How about the fact that you'll probably get yourself killed?"

  "What choice do we have, Lieutenant?" said Carlisle, with some heat, as her eyes turned a shade darker and her voice got a little louder. "We're military! We fight, sometimes we die! Within a few more days, we're probably all dead anyway!"

  With normal overrides damped down due to fatigue and the relentless tension they'd been under, the emotions of both officers began to boil over irrationally.

  "The whole scheme is just too damned risky!" said Harris, his own voice rising in response.

  "I don't give a damn about that, I'd rather go down fighting!" said Carlisle, her eyes flashing.

  "I don't like it. There has to be another way."

  "Well, if you think of one, you let me know!" she snapped at him, cheeks red. Her green eyes had taken on the color of a raging, windswept sea. Her angry scowl combined with the Clan markings on her cheek lent her a fierce, dangerous look.

  "Don't take that tone with me, Ensign! Besides, how do I know that you'll follow orders? That stunt you just pulled with the sled was completely unauthorized!"

  "There was no time! I had to do something!"

  They glared at one another for several seconds, both breathing heavily. Carlisle opened her mouth as if to say something more.

  Hawkins intervened before the situation escalated further.

  "Ensign! Lieutenant! Stop! We canna afford t' be fightin' amongst ourselves. I say we all be thinkin' about this for a while and be makin' a plan after we be calmed down a bit. Besides that, we all be tired. Let's be eatin' and getting' some rest. I'll be takin' the first watch."

  "That's...That's probably a good idea," said Harris, more calmly then he felt.

  The two antagonists glared at one another for another long moment and then broke eye contact. Each went to a different side of the bridge. Carlisle found a spot behind a row of consoles, inside an empty locker with a missing door, a place where she could have some private space and maybe some time to think. She angrily tore off the seal of a food tube and began to eat. By the time she had finished the meal, she had calmed down somewhat. She was still angry, but most of the emotion she felt had turned to regret. She kept running the argument over and over in her mind. What could she have done differently? She realized suddenly that the three of them had been working together almost seamlessly as a tightly knit team since this gut-wrenching adventure had begun, something that she'd always seemed to have trouble with. What's more, she hadn't had to work that hard at it; they had come together so naturally that she really hadn't given it much thought. Could the three of them recapture that dynamic? At the moment, she didn't see how. Worst of all, her dirty little secret, that she couldn't
control her temper, was out. Real Naval officers didn't lose control, especially with their superiors. Harris couldn't possibly find anything to like about her after this!

  She decided to use the ultrasonic shower in an attempt to relax and maybe raise her spirits a little. When she had finished with the shower, she changed into some of the spare clothes she had packed for what was originally to have been a short stay at the auxiliary station and dabbed on a bit of the cologne that she had included with her personal gear. It wasn't much, just a light spritz, but the effect on her mood was positive, albeit only mildly. She still felt angry at the Lieutenant, even angrier at herself and depressed because she had lost control, but she did feel a little better. She went back to her isolated spot and began going through more of the files on her wrist computer. Within another twenty minutes she realized just how tired she was from the relentless tension and grueling activities of the last several days, not to mention the argument with the Lieutenant. Like good sailors throughout history, despite her dark mood and their desperate situation, she nodded off.

  Chapter 35

  New Ceylon Orbital Station, Smuggler's Lair, October 8, 2598.

  "Commander?"

  Kresge woke up immediately from his first decent sleep in what seemed like days. He was in the dark and someone was calling softly through the closed door of the small, private chamber where he and Irene were sleeping. He looked at his wrist chronometer, noted that he'd slept for all of two and half hours, and sighed.

  "I'll be with you in a minute."

  He gently extricated himself from Irene's warm embrace and carefully pulled the blanket over her still sleeping form. He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. She stirred softly, but didn't awaken. Kresge wasn't surprised; Irene had her hands full almost every waking moment keeping the ever-growing resistance band organized, fed, sheltered and away from each other's throats. He used the bathroom of the private chamber and took a moment to look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair and rubbed his chin, realizing that he was badly in need of a shave. Maybe someone had a shaving kit or something, he'd have to check. He slipped into his uniform coverall and took another look at himself. Having done all he could for the moment, he took a deep breath and went to face the day. Gibbons waited for him just outside the door. The two of them went out into the large common room of their lair, a room they had taken to calling the 'big hall.'