RAPPAREE
The Regeneration
The Journey of the Freighter Lola
Book 5
By
Robert Weisskopf
Text Copyright © 2017 by Robert Weisskopf
All Rights Reserved
ISBN-13: 978-1979832793
ISBN-10: 197983279X
I have a small group of retired friends that I once worked with. We’ve all turned to writing now that we no longer serve and protect.
We act as a sounding board for new story lines. We offer new viewpoints and constructive criticism. We provide a safe space to vent when frustrated by the work of writing and marketing our books.
Thank you, Larry, Rick, and Ben, for your support and friendship. You guys understand.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and their actions are fictional and are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or deceased is purely coincidental
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Notes from the Author
About the Author
Chapter 1
The forward section of the Freighter Lola filled the little shuttle’s window. I sat in the co-pilot's seat while Tony Nicosta manned the pilot’s seat. He had control of this little craft and maneuvered with great skill as we inspected the new hanger and launch facilities recently added to my ship. I sat glued to the window examining every square inch of my beloved ship floating before me.
The freighter I examined, had changed dramatically from a simple medium-sized freighter I once piloted from planet to planet. I'd retired from the Earth Police due to back problems. Living in reduced gravity on a spaceship took the pressure off my spine and allowed me to live with almost no pain.
I purchased this freighter almost ten years ago. I sank my life savings and pension money into configuring her. She was designed so I could operate her without a crew most of the time. I was a miserable old cuss and had trouble tolerating many people. One of the few I could get along with, was Chris Williams. He'd sign on with me on occasion. Often it would be for a month or two, and then he’d jump off on some planet, with a quick goodbye, and little explanation. I’d see him again months later when he’d join up from some other planet.
Chris was quiet. He kept to himself most of the time, except at dinner, where he was good for enjoyable conversation and a laugh. I could tell he had a military background, which meshed with my police background. Chris had an affinity for all things mechanical. He enjoyed keeping Lola in top shape and he took almost as much pride in her as I did.
I discovered there was much more to him than he let on. Chris was the head of a private security firm with close ties to the military. His company provided security for many of the smaller planets and most of the companies out here on the fringe. He used Lola to shuttle him around from planet to planet without drawing attention to himself. No one looked twice at a simple freighter and its crew.
A year ago, I learned about Chris’s company, Genus. Since then my life has changed. I met and fell in love with Julie Horan and together we both joined Genus. Now, along with Chris and his merry band of retired military, we travel the planets fighting bandits known as The Organization.
We transformed Lola from a medium-sized freighter to a covert military destroyer. The recent addition of hanger and landing area was the most significant change. Our shipyard built a hanger two-thirds back along the topside of the ship. Fore and aft of the hanger were take-off and landing decks. The hanger was large enough to hold our two shuttles and six fighter craft.
Lola was still capable of reentry and landing planetside if the hanger was empty. That only meant that our extra spacecraft would have to land and take off from planets on their own. Not all smaller craft were capable of atmospheric flight, so we kept this in mind when we selected our spacecraft.
As I watched, the fighters queued up for their landing. With practiced ease, each fighter set down on the aft pad. One at a time, they taxied inside the hanger. A force field held the atmosphere inside the hanger bay, while the huge hangar doors were open for operations. The large armored doors levered down and sealed the hanger once the smaller ships landed.
The hanger was designed to allow personnel to operate without space suits while the force fields were operational. For now, our procedure was all flight deck personnel would wear their power suit with sealed helmets when the hangar doors were open. I felt this redundancy would save the lives of our people if or when we had a problem. No one complained since it was a little unsettling to see wide open spaces at each end of the hangar.
The fighter pilots landed and entered the hanger like they had performed this maneuver hundreds of times. You’d never think this was their first landing aboard the Lola. The simulator program and landing procedures Tony designed were effective.
After the fighters had entered the hanger, I signaled our larger shuttle to land. It touched down gracefully, taxied inside the hanger, and the deck crew secured it. Each ship had a designated berth with automated lockdowns and shore power. Although there was little extra space in the hangar, it was well planned and efficient in its design. The techs and mechanics could perform maintenance and repairs on the ships in comfort. The shuttles could load and unload with room to spare.
Tony keyed his intercom, “Jack, want to take the controls while you do your once-over of Lola?” He knew I loved to fly. Due to my new jobs and workload, I don’t get to do it as often as I once did. “Thanks, Tony, I'd love to.”
With my hand on the controls, I side-slipped the little shuttle along Lola’s top side. I rolled the little ship over so that Lola was above me. We examined her from one end to the other then I pulled away, so I could reposition and examine her bottom. The bottom was almost featureless in comparison to the rest of the sides. Lola could take off and reenter the atmosphere of a planet, so she needed heat shielding along her bottom. It prevented damage during re-entry. Designed with a lifting body, she was shaped like an arrowhead, much like traditional aircraft.
Lifting body designs go back as far as some of the first aircraft. Spacecraft that never enter an atmosphere have no need of wings. Your large freighters and long-distance starships have no wings and no re-entry shielding. Lola has a shape much like the original space shuttles, only significantly larger. The shuttle Columbia, America’s first space shuttle, would be dwarfed by Lola. The shuttle I was now piloting was three feet longer than the Columbia and could take off and land on a planet without the aid of huge auxiliary rockets.
What a pleasure it was to maneuver our little shuttle around Lola. I need to plan more time in the pilot seat and get some time in the fighters as well. With the experience I had from simulators, I placed the shuttle down on the landing deck almost as well as Tony might have done. The automatic lockdowns anchored the craft and pulled us inside the hanger.
Once we were inside, all our ships were now aboard and docked so the large fore and aft hangar
door closed, sealing the hanger. When we had an airtight seal, the hangers red warning lights mounted around on the walls, turned off and green lights were lit. The green lights indicated there was no need for sealed helmets in the hanger. The deck crew opened their visors but kept their helmets on to keep them in contact with the hanger control room and pilots on the ships. If the force field continues to work well, I’ll relax the sealed visor rule for the hanger operations.
Tony and I conducted the shut-down checklist before we opened the rear hatch. Anchored in place and connected to shore power, the shuttle was ready for action.
“Tony, thank you for the ride and the time on the stick. I need to go to the bridge and see to a few things. See you for coffee in about an hour? My treat, okay?”
Tony nodded as I got up out of the co-pilot’s seat and left the craft. As I walked across the hanger deck the fighter pilots and the large shuttle pilots were also walking towards the main hatch leading into Lola. Their spirits were upbeat and cheerful. There was the usual joking and banter you expected from young hotshot pilots, only these guys weren’t young. These were all older, senior pilots, who would normally be more reserved. Today they were feeling much younger and excited as if they were on their first cruise.
Each of them had retired due to age or injury from active duty with the military. While the military couldn’t use them anymore, we saw them for the experience and knowledge they possessed. We were setting off on a mission today and would be gone for several months. We didn’t know what lay ahead. Based on our past few missions, these pilots knew there would be a good chance we’d need their talents. They were looking forward to the challenge and danger. They were racehorses, and even though older and beat up, the idea of being put out to pasture didn’t sit well with them.
I went straight to the ship’s bridge. It was down two decks and forward. The ship was full of new walls, dividing up the old larger holds and storage areas. Now there were cabins and berthing areas, exercise areas with assorted machines and a fighting arena. On one side of the corridor, was a state of the art armorer’s workshop and target range. We had men on board who could maintain most any weapon, from a large crew served ships laser, to small hideout pistols.
Further along, we had a shop with 3d printing abilities that could make custom fitted power suits for anyone in minutes. There was now two main types of power suits, heavy duty, and light duty. I was still wearing my light duty suit under a Lola patched flight suit. With my helmet on and sealed, it provided a safe environment for a spacewalk. I know, I’ve done it. The heavy-duty suit had all the benefits of the light suit with enhanced exoskeleton abilities. In addition to the muscular enhancement provided by the old suit, the exoskeleton provided greater strength and endurance as well as armored protection from heavier weapons.
Had I been wearing the new suit when I was shot two months ago I wouldn’t have been knocked to the ground and bruised. Instead, I would have only heard it strike me. In addition, there were many other enhancements to life support and computing. The only drawback was, it wasn’t something you’d wear under your clothing. It wasn’t as discrete as the old suit, but it was never meant to be. This was a serious battle suit for the military.
The military hadn’t gotten around to issuing the light-weight suits to all its troops yet, and the heavy-duty suit was in use only by a few select units. We had them compliments of General Mauer. He was our secret benefactor. We acted as his eyes and ears in our travels. On occasion, we acted as his fist.
The General had a huge area to protect. He had the equipment, weapons, and money. He didn’t have the manpower. He had an arrangement with our company, Genus. The General helped Chris Williams and Nick Cesarea create Genus. He has since helped provide equipment and employment. Even more important he has helped us locate manpower. The military can be hard on its people. They tend to get injured and disabled.
The military rules required a person, once classified as disabled, to retire from service. They might be missing a leg or arm, or even eyes. With today’s prosthetic devices, they can be stronger and better than original. More important, we saved the talent and skills that the military spent millions developing. Our people were older and limped a little. When we were on planets with full gravity we tended to get aches after a while, but a short trip in lower gravity took care of that.
As a result, we shipped out with some of the bravest and smartest men and women to ever carry a weapon or pilot a ship. These people are experienced professionals who knew their job. Which is why I’m always humbled when they addressed me as Skipper aboard the Lola. To earn the respect of old men in a profession where they usually die young, should not be taken lightly.
I continued down the corridor past the medical section. This was expanded in the recent upgrades. We now carried a full surgical staff. Most of the men and women on board have received extensive medic training over the years and Leroy Bowman our lead combat medic was probably a better surgeon than most doctors. This was the kind of redundancy I like.
Ahead, I could see the hatch to the bridge. As I approached, it opened, and Julie Hansen stepped out. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me, and her smile grew larger. We hugged each other and kissed. Even though we’re engaged to be married and shared the Captain’s stateroom, we didn’t like to show too much in public.
“Well, I wondered how long you would be playing outside young man. I was about to call you in, to wash up,” Julie said as if she were my mother. My response was a simple “Sorry.”
“So, how’d everything go up there? How’s the new hangar? How’d it work out?” She was instrumental in the design and had come up with the idea in the first place, so her curiosity and excitement were natural and expected.
“Tony promised to take you for a trip around Lola after dinner tonight. That’ll give you a full cycle in the hangar and let you see how well the shipyard did their job.” I could see that excited Julie. “How'd everything go on the bridge as we made the landings?”
Once we’d set up for the flight evolutions you never noticed a thing. It was smooth. We have a good crew on board, as always.”
“I’m going to step on the bridge and log on for a few minutes and then I promised to meet Tony for coffee. What are you up to?”
“I wanted to go check on our guests in the lower hold. I want to make sure they are enjoying their flight. They’re critical to our mission and I don’t want to upset them. They can make such a mess if you let them.” She turned away as she said this with a chuckle. Like a school girl, she skipped as she went down the corridor.
We had several guests traveling with us on this trip, but the ones she was referring to were different. We had fifty American Yorkshire pigs traveling with us. Mostly females, there were four males to ensure the passel of pigs bred well. Julie had taken a liking to the swine and had decided they fell under her dominion even though we had two hog farmers on board who would be raising and taking care of the creatures at our destination.
We were headed to a strange new land.
Chapter 2
Lola’s bridge had grown much larger than it was eighteen months ago. Back then I often traveled alone on my trips carrying cargo. On occasion, I took on crew. Chris Williams was one of the few people who traveled with me. I didn’t know the real reason Chris signed on to crew with me back then. Times were much less complicated.
Lola’s current bridge layout had positions for Pilot, Navigator, Engineer, Weapons, and Communications/Sensors. Each of the positions could also be configured to replace any of the others in the event there was the need. Those five positions were laid in a semi-circle facing a large window that ran across the width of the room and up across the top of the ceiling. Behind these seats and up a step behind a railing were six other seats that allowed visitors to observe operations.
While over the last fifty years, many ships had abandoned the forward windscreen, instead choosing a video screen. Recent advances in liquid crystal metals had created optically clear wi
ndows that were stronger than the armored material surrounding them. They had the advantage of being clear but at the flip of a switch, they became completely opaque and could then double as a display screen.
Our most recent upgrades to the bridge added a new holographic information system which projected any data or communications we wanted in front of us. The bridge was at the tip of the freighter Lola and as such had no actual view to the rear except by camera. This could be displayed in front of us on the holograph and was so detailed it looked like we were peering out windows facing the rear. Of course, we had the ability to view in any direction.
I stepped in and took my seat at the head of the semicircle. Someone immediately announced, “Skipper on the bridge.” I wasn’t much of a stickler for that sort of thing, but these people were all former military and it was hard-wired into them at this point. At least they agreed to not call me Captain but rather used the more familiar Skipper.
There were only two people on duty on the bridge when I sat down. Iwona Grolski was in her seat at the Communications/Sensor console. Al Hogan sat at the Weapons console, but in fact, he'd configured it for piloting. The ship’s autopilot was managing the ship, but Al stood ready to jump in if anything needed his attention.
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