"Camps you say. I bet they at least eat regularly."
"Since the war ended the camps have grown to over a hundred thousand men women and children as crews were released from service . Though forced temp sterilization helps keep the population down. They do eat twice a day though the food is a little bland and repetitive. Since the end of the war, the military has moved in thousands of prefabricated homes and barracks left over from closed military bases to house them all in relative roomy comfort."
"That explains all the ship hulks around the ports. Never seen so many of them. Though I find it hard to believe after coming all this way that they can’t pay for the fuel to go on . You said something about upgrading to English standards. Do they include mink lined seats or something. What do they do; kick the crews out if they don't like the looks of them? "
"Almost but not quite." The Priestess smiled at Mark. "Most of them are here because they simply ran out of credits after making the upgrades as they waited for Cargo into the outback. Already desperate; the reason they came here."
"What? I thought they were begging for ships to take cargo into the outback. It does not make sense."
"Yes they are, but most shippers want their cargo to be delivered and pick the best ships to transport it on. Usually Company ships but also Tramps that have enough weapons and the experience and reputation to use the weapons to m defend ing themselves against the pirates and starving lawless planets. Most of the ones you see impounded have few or outdated weapons. Though not all. Some bought good weapons but lack the experience to use them or have other problems and shippers here have grown good at being able to tell if a ship has problems. Some spent too much on weapons and simply went from the installation yards to the bankruptcy yards and then the outer security rings of the Port."
"And strait to the Camps. And if the Queen does not make it into orbit we follow suit right?"
"Yes Mark but you will not let that happen. You will free them all." The Priestess starred at Mark smiling. "As you freed me. As you just freed the trucks you needed for your Star Queen to survive. The old fan trucks would have made it impossible for you to survive let alone free anyone. The fact that your ship was already over half full of cargo going beyond the old Russian State England helps getting you additional cargo but that is conditional on receiving an exit visa from the safety commission. Which you are well on the way to satisfying with the bombers and new trucks. There are only a few more conditions you must meet and then you will be able to continue into the outback and free them all."
“What? What do you mean free them All?” Mark eyed the Priestess and then the line of closely spaced Transports lining the North side of the Space Port. “I have to free all the Tramps and get them their ships back which means upgrading and paying their bills and getting cargo for them and of who … Shit you have got to be full of it Priestess.”
“Yes Mark. Free them all. All the Tramps and all the Hostages and all the Slaves and all the Planets and Star Systems across the Outback.”
Ok. And how the hell am I supposed to do all that?”
“By staying alive.”
“You already said that. And How am I supposed to stay alive?”
“By freeing everyone.”
Rolling his eyes. “Godstar! I didn’t ask for riddles.” To hungry to argue anymore, Mark gave up as his thoughts turned to the Steak and Lobster Tail dinner waiting for him on the ship if he got there in time. Looking at his wrist Comm with the time on its face ticking closer to the second the chow line would close and anyone late was just shit out of luck.
A few minutes later a great point of light started at a pit deep in the port as a starship climbed out clawing for the sky. Its bright tail lit up the rapidly darkening sky. All he could think of was the steak and lobster dinner and not missing out again as he watched and started bighting his lip planning the fastest way to get there.
“Still the most beautiful sight I have ever s eem aw even after 12,000 years.” Said the Priestess sitting in the copilot’s seat. "It never gets old. Though it has been a couple thousand years since the last time I saw it with my own eyes so to speak. Not that I was totally isolated. I was able to listen and watch millions in my libraries and government chambers that have mostly been changed into temples as new bigger libraries and government buildings were built over the centuries. I have gone from being part of everyone's daily life to an ancient religion for the down trodden needing hope. Confusing me with Godstar. Now because of you, I can again help these people instead of just helplessly listening to them while their politicians ignore d the m or use their pains to further their own aims ."
Mark turned to look at the priestess. Annoyed at her for nothing more than that she was there. The last thing he wanted right then was reminded of that afternoon. And it had been going so well with a tour through Toyland , then piloting a large boat that was almost a ship into orbit and back for the first time in his life and then he got stupid and went spelunking.
Finely getting clearance. He turned into the port and headed for the ship. Pushing the Assault Shuttle Boat’s throttles to the firewall. He soon had the truck up to 200 knots before pulling back to cruise power as he headed in. The port was 50 miles across and even 200 knots would put him in too late for dinner. Sadly Jack started to reduce d power back to 50 knots as he saw the string of lights marking the APCC’s and APC’s approaching the port from the south .
“Star Queen Truck 9, you are exceed ed ing the speed limit by a 150 knots. Continue to slow down immediately or but a ticket has already will be en issued.”
“What was that ground control? You want me to speed up or you will give me a ticket? Ok if you insist.” Mark jammed the throttles forward letting the speed climb to 300 (the speed he needed to reach the Star Queen in time for Chow), as he dropped down to thread his way through the towering ships in the pits only some 100 feet over off the tops of the berms separating the pits deck . Keeping a close eye on the traffic around him. At that speed it only took a few minutes to reach the Star Queen. As he came up onto his pit he pulled up until the belly of the truck faced the Star Queen and then put the coils at full power pushing against the mass of the Ship to slow him down. Hoping the mass of the ship matched his calculations to slow him down in time and not really caring if it didn’t. "I think this might be a hard dock Priestess so hold on."
“Star Queen Truck 9 . A nother ticket has been sent to your ship for speeding, penetrating our minimum altitude and reckless flying.”
The truck came to a stop as it hit the hull directly over the truck hatch. Hitting hard enough to make a clang but other than that, Mark did not feel it. Flipping level as he let the truck drop down to the truck deck ramp, Mark slid in through the hatch. Spinning it around just inside the hatch where he was sure he had room but barely, he reached across to the copilots console and unlocked the trailer so he could pivot it around the stern of the front power truck, then backed it around the core hull lifting the truck up to the overhead as he backed into truck number 9’s upper rack. Dumping the trailer on the open platform above, he put it on auto hover and went back to check the trailer disconnect and shut the role down hatches. Plopping back into the pilots seat he dropped down to back into the enclosed slip and into the universal civilian locking clamps on the deck underneath the trailer and took a deep breath as he quickly shut down the truck skimming the check list.
Finally Mark Then looked at his watch and. “Shit! Damn it! I am too late for chow. No way I can make it up to the mess deck in one minute. Even if I burn out another elevator.”
Finely taking another deep breath he found himself starring at the operational bus in stall 13 he had taken to the Zoo and then Doctor West's to get his eyes cut out but wound up with his glasses he named Mickey well over almost a week before , that had started all of this. Remembering that the Doctor and his eye implants he had ordered in an effort to get rid of Mickey. Implants that had now saved the sight of the crewmen from the hold battle the a couple days after he g
ot Mickey and the day after he had been forced to become a n stupid officer. Shaking his head , Mark’s eyes roved over the junked bus in stall 14 crammed with old truck parts around and over it. Briefly wondering how hard it would be to put windows in the sides of the 13th APCC and seats to replace the junk bus full of us e less repair parts for trucks they no longer had. Then Chuckling , Mark wondered how hard it would be to even get a 14th APCC to replace the bus they still had. Cringing at the thought of losing a fan with a full load of kids. Cringing at the thought Mark shook all over , deciding that he had better figure out someway some way to replace the bus as well.
Pulling the parking grav lock, gluing the truck down onto the deck he turned to the Priestess. “Well Priestess, welcome to my castle home my lady.” Mark bowed with a flourish like he had seen of medieval movies over the years. At least as much as the seat allowed him.
“Thank you Mark, this has been very enjoyable. Can I see you later after dinner? We can talk more about your Quest when you are feeling better and your mind is not so clouded. I will go into more details when Y y ou should be able to understand more complicated matters.”
“Sure. Whenever you want. Drop by anytime love.” Mark opened the armored pilot’s side hatch to head for Tramptown in the hope he could get something quick to eat there and was yanked out by two powerful arms onto the deck as a marine climbed in through the hatch fallowed by a stream of marines. Laying with his arms and legs pinned to the deck face up, Mark marveled at the speed they made it through the hatch. Marine after marine after marine. Old fragile A a rmor plates falling off of half of them as something caught on the side of the hatch as each marine hurried. “Wow ! That was neat.” Surprised that they fit through the hatch with their big bulky 200 year old suits. Not surprised as pieces of armor fell off of several of them. Sadly shaking his head after seeing how compact the new English Battlesuits were. Finely a marine stuck his head out the hatch and gave the all clear.
“Ok guys. Can we get dinner now? I am starved.” Mark said to the guys holding him down.
“What the?” The marine took a close look at him and let go. “Commander Collins! I am sorry Sir . I did not recognize you in those rags I see now was a uniform. We also but we did not know the strange APC was you sir.” The two Marines helped him up off the deck. “What’s with the APC Mr. Collins?”
“They are our new cargo grav-trucks called APCC’s. We should be getting a bunch in tonight. All the Airtrucks have been retired. And by the way, we are also getting a bunch of APC’s that are half the size of the APCC as well. Where we are going to put them until we get the life boat bays or car decks converted is beyond me.”
“My god Mark! What happened to you?” The truck Chief walked up to Mark. “You look like you where Mugged Commander. And what is with the APC here?
“It’s an APCC Chief. The APC’s are on their way. The rest of the bakers dozen APCC ‘s should be here soon. Now I am going to get chow. I have been looking forward to Steak and Lobsters all day. Any chance they held the chow line open for us late arrivals.”
“Sorry Mark , but the steak and lobster night has been postponed tell tomorrow night. We are on condition 2 with the trucks missing and some kind of rumor about a battle at the military base. Hamburgers and fries are all you can get tonight unless you want a salad or a cold cut sandwich and chips. Tramptown is even closed during the emergency.” The Chief continued to look Mark up and down shaking his head as the marines picked him up off the deck .
“No Steak and Lobster tails tonight?” Mark felt like crying as his shoulders drooped and he trudged past the Chief towered the elevator. “It just was not fair damn it!” Looking down at his shoes he noticed some red stuff on them and his riped pants. Jerking his eyes up he concentrated on the elevator hatch and a note board next to it as he walked up. No longer in any hurry to get up ship. He felt like crying but forced himself to control it.
Reading the notices as he approached. Someone had lost their wallet at the carnival two nights before. That is a shame. He liked carnivals. How came he missed the carnival. Seemed like he was missing all the fun lately. Someone could have told him damn it or at least a notice on the bulletin boards ahead of time. How can they expect people to go if they don’t post it ahead of time. A carnival would have been nice and he missed it damn it. The fact that he was the cause of the carnival as he brought back an all but shot down fighter with the wounded Dian, escaped him as shock at the day’s events finally took over his mind and body.
A drive room engineer walked by and stopped and starred at him. Having to go around Jack as the elevator opened made it impossible to ignore the man so he starred back at the rude guy as his wrist came up to his speaking lips Mark could not seem to understand.
“ What you starring a t? ” Mark started to say but noticed a lot of people staring at him. Looking down at himself covered in blood and his uniform in tatters with black burn marks only half hidden by red stains.
Mark jerked his gaze back up to the elevator message board and someone wanted to go to town tomorrow shopping. They even put down their phone number. How sweet. NO! he He had something he had to do tomorrow . O o h yes the engine room. He had to make sure the engines got fixed. Good , he loved working on the engines.
Then Mark remembered. No, he was now the fighter bomber Commander now . He had 9 big ass spacecraft to worry about and pilots to train and… The enormity of that job started overwhelming him until he simply changed the subject.
He would get a nice juicy steak and lobster and no . Damn it . That was not fare silly , but a hamburger sounded nice tonight at least it was food and then check on his engine room and his engine. No . Not his engines anymore but he did have the bombers. Mark smiled as his mind wondered around in circles as pictures of dead bodies kept flashing in front of him . Yes No . Didn’t someone say something about rebuilding the fighter? Yes he needed to check on the fighter... And the bombers. Oh shit. How the hell was he going to get all the equipment and those bombers into that damn lock with the stupid wrecked gunboat hulk still in it. Then there was damn near a thousand tons of bombs and torpedoes?
Shaking his head. Damn he felt awfully tired. He glanced around him. "Why is everyone looking at me?" He asked himself as he turned back to the board. Not wanting an answer.
The message board sure had a lot of stupid messages on it. One message was flickering to get attention but it did not make sense to him. Putting his hand up to make it stop flashing he noticed his red splotched hand and fingers and sleeve and just starred at it. “I think I need to wash my hands.”
Someone came out of the elevator and stepped up beside him. “Come on Commander let's get you cleaned up.”
Turning to face the man , Mark realized it was his Boson Mate Aid. “I’ve been looking forward to steak and lobster all day but they are only having hamburgers tonight. Or had.” Mark pouted. “Do you think I could get some mushrooms on my hamburger and some curly fries. fries? I like curly fries.” Then shaking his head. “No the mess decks are closed aren’t they?”
The Trucking Chief came up to him as he was being led into the elevator. “Commander. What happened to Tom, your mechanic? I sent him with you this morning.”
Mark’s blank face looked around the growing crowd around the elevator looking for Tom . “Tom? Oh a shit .” Taking the laser pistol out of its holster he had retrieved from Tom when they took him away and he looked at it. “This is Tom’s. I emptied mine on that fricking monster. But it would not die. Tom is not coming back tonight. So many bodies. I killed so many of them and they just kept coming. Why?” Turning to his aid. “You remember Tom!… You should have seen Tom tear into those guys. Godstar he must have killed a dozen of them before they got him. He was great but they tore him up pretty bad. I couldn't’ make all the bleeding stop. Ran out of super glue." Mark was suddenly back in the cavern in his mind a s his face turned into a blank stare . L L ooking around the cavern and the tunnel on his way out.
The screams and faces f
lashing through his mind so fast he could not stop looking at them as he continued . “There was just so many bodies. Guts all over the place. The guy's head just flew off and landed on the skeleton of the dead inspector and body parts all over the place. How could someone get cut up into so many pieces so fast? So many body parts scattered all over the fucking tunnels. But I got the bastard that killed them. Yap I got him good. Had to use a blaster cannon on it but I killed his ass. Vaporized him it . But not before he killed hundreds of troops. ”
As several people ran off retching , Mark turned back to the truck Chief as he took a deep breath. “No Tom is not coming back right now. They have to put him back together first. At least they can put him back together. So many others are just shit out of luck. Lucky to find a hand or foot to bury let alone put back together.” Someone else threw up as others ran away holding their mouths. No. Tom should be back tomorrow as soon as they get him glued all back together. Told them they had to get him back before we lifted. That we could not leave without him.” Turning back to his aid again. “The menu said steak and lobster. I was so looking forward to steak and lobster because that is what the menu said this morning…” Looking down at his watch. “Damn missed chow again as a tear came to his eyes. At least Tom doesn’t have to worry about chow. Nope. ” Mark looked up from what was l eft of his uniform and looked at the Bosom . “No he would have loved Steak and Lobster tails too.”
“I will see if I can get you steak and lobster Mr. Collins but let's get you fixed cleaned up first and then we will see about getting you something to eat. Ok?”
Looking down at his bloody hands. “Ya that’s a good idea. Wash up a little and then a nice juicy Cheeseburger and I am so tired. Think they would mind if I took a break before I report up to the boat lock?” Looking at his aid. “Oh I guess you aren’t my aid any longer since they kicked me out of the engine room. Sorry Bosom. No! Damn, I like you. ”
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