SUNDAY SCHOOL (TRAMPS Book 2)

by Ray Blackwell

  “He is always with us Father. We will see you next month, our holiness willing.” The Captain bowed to Master Krell.

  The freighter Captain turned to Rand, “Whenever you’re ready sir.”

  Rand gave the Captain a thumbs up, then directed his attention to the Seer,

  ”I can’t thank you enough; for everything.”

  The Seer extended his hand but Rand found the courage to step in and hug Master Krell.

  “You’re learning,” The old Master giggled.

  Rand’s crew took turns giving the Seer a hug. Perry sat Serena down and The old Master tightened up worried that the gentle giant might pop his bones, but instead he felt the gentleness from Perry.

  Mitchell was next to last. He gave a hug but felt somewhat embarrassed.

  “You think I’m crazy my young friend.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” came Mitchell’s reply. But, the old Master could tell and smiled

  “Believe this young Mitchell, no one will care.” Mitchell just nodded and backed away.

  Serena was last. She slowly walked up to him, wrapped her arms about him as he did her, and looked up into his kind warm face. “I...I...I’m going to miss you.”

  Master Krell leaned down where only Serena could see his face clearly. Her heart skipped a beat as she stared into the most crystal blue, clear, eyes she had ever see, They were the eyes of a young man, full of wisdom and mystery.

  He spoke softly and clearly, “Think of me and I will be there.”

  Her eyes were wide and full of expression. She stepped back and they stretched their arms out letting their hands fall away from each other. For a brief moment, Serena’s heart soared above the trees as she felt understanding sweep through her like a summer breeze.

  “Serena, lets go,” Rand said.

  They boarded the ship except for Perry. He had one last duty to perform.

  Aaron, Mitchell and Rand took their seats on the bridge. Terri manned the EMP cannon. Serena stayed next to Terri as their next few minutes were a surprise.

  Twenty minutes left of total darkness.

  Master Krell re-entered the monastery and the brilliant lights went out.

  The yard was pitched in total blackness except for the freighters running lights.

  Lady Luck’s engines hummed as she began lifting. Her generators screaming to help produce enough power to assist in the EMP cannon. Likewise the generators on the freighter also were maxed out.

  “Sir, we have a heat signature rising behind the freighter!” the Corporal said excitedly.

  “They’re getting ready to move her in the freighter,” Captain Hernandez surmised.

  Lady Luck lifted to thirty feet above ground.

  On Lady Luck, Terri quickly adjusted the EMP cannon zoom. She targeted for the left Banshee first.

  The brilliant white light shot from the Lady’s belly striking the motionless Banshee. Soldiers around the Banshee fell to their knees as energy weapons went dead. Radios’ became inoperative. Night vision and Infra red monitoring equipment also became useless.

  Another EMP blast was directed at the second Banshee. Again, more soldiers dropped. Captain Hernandez held up his hands to guard his face yet he was temporarily disoriented and also in a dizzying spell, fell to the ground. Curses and howl’s filled the camp as a wider beam from Lady Luck filled the area to neutralize what the first two may have missed, then a fourth shot blazed across the night sky, simply because Terri was feeling overly zealous.

  “Okay, okay Terri, that’s plenty,” Rand said over the speaker.

  Mitchell dropped the Lady quickly back to the ground.

  Perry quickly jogged to the side of Lady and pulled the power lines connecting Lady Luck to the freighter.

  Chaos reigned across the Republic camp. Hernandez was screaming for anyone to find a radio to work. Most were still temporarily blinded.

  Ten minutes of total blackness was left. Captain Hernandez forced himself to squint at the monastery yard.

  He could faintly hear from the distance the low reverberation of the freighters engines. Against a star lit background an ominous dark shape came towards them with blinking running lights.

  The large freighter flew overhead and was quickly accelerating away at a neck breaking pace.

  “Somebody find me a damn radio!” the Captain shouted.

  Blindly, soldiers staggered through the Banshees looking for an operational hand-held radio.Half the marine detachment were still on the ground and the other half staggering like drunken sailors. Meanwhile, the giant freighter was gaining miles in altitude. The fleet still unaware that the freighter had lifted or that the Security Force camp was in any trouble.

  The freighter Captain caught the awaiting fleet on the edge of his radar and angled the giant ship away. Maybe, just maybe, he thought.

  On the ground, a soldier finally cam out of the Banshee with an operational radio. He managed to get it on and fumbled with the frequency, before handing it to Hernandez.

  “Captain Hernandez to fleet command. Captain Hernandez. Fleet command, respond!” Soft static.

  “I repeat, this is Captain Hernandez, the fugitives have escaped. The fugitives have escaped. They’re on-board the freighter near your location. Somebody answer the damned radio!!”

  “This is fleet command. Say again, you’re coming in weak.”

  The EMP cannon could have possibly affected the radio. Hernandez repeated his message, without the cursing.

  “Fleet command, we understood. Fugitives are space bound. We’ll take it from here.”

  Captain Hernandez felt some measure of relief but his troops were now on foot. The mornings purple soft glow seemed as irritating as a nuclear explosion. He squinted at the dim glowing tree line and the monastery seemed utterly blinding.

  ”Soldiers, look down. Those of you who can see, let your eyes re-adjust.”

  Captain Hernandez felt massive surges of nausea, wave after wave and knew his men were no better off. He squinted at the soft dirt under his feet trying to make out twigs and individual blades of grass in the pre-dawn light.

  In space the fleet went on red alert. Klaxon horns sounded as fighters and Banshees were alerted and throttled to intercept the freighter. With the freighter feeding power to the Lady’s EMP cannon to allow it to fire several consecutive volleys, the freighters batteries were no better off than Lady Luck. A jump would have to wait.

  Never the less, the freighter Captain remained at full throttle trying to buy time.

  Shouted orders came over the freighters communication systems.

  “Captain,” said one of the freighter crew hands, “We’re being given direct orders to shutdown and remain at station keeping or be fired on.”

  The Captain grimaced. The interceptors and Banshees were moving in fast and with his registration on file, he reluctantly had his freighter brought to a standstill.

  “Have all personnel in your cargo bay ready to be accounted for and prepare for boarding. We’re not playing, we will have you blown to bits if you do not comply. Do you understand?”

  “This is the Captain, my crew will do as requested. We don’t want any harm. RCC St Mary complying.”

  The freighter captain turned toward his XO. “Well, that’s all she wrote. We did what we could do. Lets go meet our ‘guests’.”

  Banshees’ maneuvered into position and established secure connections with the various airlocks around the ship. Marines quickly disembarked their individual vessels and stormed the freighter with impeccable precision. Teams divided up and quickly searched the giant ship. Nothing, no fugitives and no stolen Banshee in the main hanger. No trace of any foul play.

  The leading marine went to the freighter crew.

  “Where are they?” he demanded.

  “Where’s who?” asked the freighter Captain.

  “The fugitives, you ass!” the marine barked, highly frustrated.

  “Oh, you mean those nice people at the monastery. Their probably still the
re. Quite frien..”

  “SHUT UP, JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!!”

  The marine grabbed his radio.

  “Fleet command, Captain Hargrove. This ship is empty! I repeat, this ship is empty. No convicts; no vessel on-board.”

  There was a short pause.

  “Captain, fleet command. Re-assemble and storm the monastery. I repeat, storm the monastery! Do you copy?”

  “We’re on it. Captain Hargrove out!”

  “Alright girls, you heard the fleet. Let’s go!”

  As the troopers filed out to their individual ships, Hargrove got in the freighter Captains face. His jaws flexed like they were doing push-ups. He was speechless and turned. He stomped away slapping at food goods and boxes of clothing, blankets and other helpful items.

  After the marines had departed his ship, the freighter Captain looked at his smiling crew.

  “Hmm, he doesn’t have Jesus in his heart; Poor fella.”

  His crew giggled sheepishly.

  “Okay everybody, lets get back to work,”

  At the camp, Hernandez could finally focus on the monastery grounds and to his amazement, there was Lady Luck. Still setting in the same place. The morning sun’s rays, shining over the trees.

  “Lieutenant, post guards around the Banshees, everyone else gear up.”

  A crackle came over Captain Hernandez’s radio.

  “Fleet command to Captain Hernandez, come in.”

  “This is Hernandez, go ahead fleet.”

  “The freighter was empty, the fugitives are still at large.”

  “Understood fleet, we have the stolen Banshee in view. It remains in the monastery grounds.”

  “You have permission to assault the grounds. Do you receive? You have permission to assault! We have reinforcements on the way. Awaiting for their arrival is under your discretion.”

  “We’re on foot fleet. Twenty minutes from the wall. Maybe they’ll meet us there. The enemy used EMP on us. Both Banshees’ disabled, over.”

  Another long pause.

  “That’s unfortunate. Troops are inbound. Repeat, troops are inbound. Good hunting!”

  Captain Hernandez put his radio to his belt, chambered his rifle and waved his arms at his marines.

  “Lets go!”

  Captain Hernandez and fifteen troops began their trek through the forest. In full battle gear, combat boots crushed through the dry branches and fallen leaves. Noise discipline was of no concern. Captain Hernandez ordered double time and they started running single file, beating a fresh path into the wooded hillside. At ten minutes through the trek he halted the troops.

  Captain Hernandez pulled out standard binoculars and did a sweep of the compound. There was no movement. No shutters swayed or peeping faces from the windows that he could detect. Perhaps there were traps he pondered.

  “Move out!” he ordered again.

  Farther down the Captain’s troops descended. Another ten minutes or so had passed and they arrived at the far north wall. The smell of various roses infiltrated his senses. He felt that this pristine well manicured facility would soon become a blood bath. The troops hid behind the wall when the reinforcements had arrived. Instead of maneuvering to a safe outer location the Banshees turned to face the monastery with turrets at the ready. They sat down quickly on the lawn and Hernandez had his troopers unite with the fresh batch of twenty or so that ran from the back of the Banshees’ taking defensive positions to the rear of the engine hulls.

  Captain Hernandez met with Hargrove.

  “What’s the situation?” Hargrove asked Hernandez.

  “Not sure but everything seems quiet. That Banshee could be booby trapped. This place is a virtual castle. Could be a challenge.”

  Hargrove nodded in agreement.

  “If they fire we can light it up, that’s for damned sure.”

  Just then the tall double doors slowly opened. Rifles were aimed as monks came out in single file. Their hoods lowered so the soldiers could see that none of the faces resembled the fugitives. They walked out with their hands folded before them and followed the monastery wall. Once they reached the end they turned and followed the garden wall until they were all single filed and out of any crossfire.

  Hargrove and Hernandez approached the monks with rifles pointed up. They reached an elderly monk at the front of the single filed row.

  “Where are they?” Hernandez asked.

  “They left.” the old Seer creaked.

  “Left where?”

  The old Seer paused turning his milky eyes skyward, “They never told us.”

  Hernandez turned to his Liutenant and shouted.

  “Lieutenant, secure that Banshee and watch for traps!”

  The Lieutenant responded, “Sir, yes sir!”, and took a team of seven and cautiously approached the burnt hulled Banshee.

  As they neared the nose of Lady Luck the Lieutenant raised his hand to stable himself underneath.

  The Lieutenant was startled as his hand passed through the Lady Luck’s image and he fell forward. He realized he was staring at a clever mirage, Then it donned on him quickly that he wasn’t behind cover. The Lieutenant expected gunfire at that moment, but there was nothing.

  Hargrove and Hernandez both started yelling commands for the troops to take cover.

  As if on cue both Captains ordered an assault into the monastery. Troops entered the double doors with weapons drawn. Rifles scanned the inside of the empty main chamber.

  Meanwhile, miles out in the sea, Rand and his crew were staring out the Lady’s forward bridge ports. They kept close to the surface but deep enough to hide their heat signature.

  Tropical fish and a few various types of eel like creatures swam by. They were delighted by the view and Serena looked at all of them.

  “Thank you, guys. Thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

  “What are friends for?” Rand said.

  “Mitchell, I’d say now would be a good time.”

  “You got it boss!” Mitchell smiled.

  Lady Luck broke from the surface, Water rushing from the flat hull in a wade spray from behind.Those not seated leaned flat against the rear bridge bulkhead as Lady Luck aimed straight up, accelerating the little ship up to mach 2.5.

  They all looked out the sides of the bridge as the planet slowly, slowly changed to a perfectly smooth sphere.

  The jump batteries had filled to eighty percent.

  “Hit it!” Rand said.

  Still in the fringes of the upper atmosphere, air, space and time compressed at the nose of the valiant little vessel. There was a short blast of flame at the nose then quickly disappeared. Lady Luck shot through the star system like a bullet.

  At the monastery, soldiers exited by twos’ shaking their heads towards the two captains’.

  No fugitives to be found.

  Captain Hernandez scanned the area. He glanced at the tree line over the far garden wall and noticed a two hundred foot gap between the trees. The wall itself was barely under five feet. Between the trees laid the light ripples cascading the reflective sea.

  Captain Hernandez surmised that the fugitive’s Banshee must have cleared the wall and went swimming after the night vision survey equipment was knocked out. He then realized he could have gave the order to use one of the SMP cannons to knock out Lady Luck and no one would have been hurt, but stranded.

  The Captain calmly removed the chin strap and pulled the helmet off. He dropped it on the well manicured yard. Then as a grimace crossed his face, his immaculate polished, black combat boot sent his helmet skipping across the grass.

  The old Master pulled his hood over his head. He turned his milky white eyes toward Captain Hernandez and grinned.

  HIGH MARSHALL

  In the Republic Security Force (RSF) there are 7 Scepter class war cutters. They are nearly twice the mass of a Banshee but not quite escort ships. Each one is under the control of a High Marshall.

  High Marshalls’ are equivalent in pay-grade to a rear admira
l, yet they do not control fleets. A High Marshall is responsible for Security Investigations that do not fit in with fleet engagements. There are seven High Marshalls’. One per quadrant of Republic held space. Core-ward Alpha quadrant, Beta Quadrant, Delta which is outward, Gamma Quadrant, Epsilon which is the north sector, Kappa is the southern sector and Sol or Central Sector.

  Markell Bergfalk was one of these Marshalls. He investigated high profile cases and pursued criminals in the Sol Sector. After the report of a stolen Banshee and it’s possible demise, he had given up the thought of pursuit but with a new report of the fugitives survival, Markell re-opened the case as he had a vast personal interest.

  Markell thumbed through the prisoner files as he quickly descended the stairs leading from the bridge of the RSF Nightfang. After pulling some strings he managed to get his older brother reassigned under his command. Like Markell, Sigfrid were both the sons’ of a German structural engineer. Their mother an American astrophysicist. The nationalities only inferring language and accent as Earth was no longer divided by borders.

  Markell entered the circuitry/engineering room finding his older brother slumped over. Sigfrid’s upper torso buried past an open access panel.

  “Sig”

  A tool clanked and Sigfrid banged his head in the tightly packed servo compartment, which was for Sigfrid a normal occurring event

  ‘sh-poom’

  “Ahhhgh, damn it Mark!”, .

  “Got a sec?”

  Sigfrid pulled himself free, a dark grease stain on his forehead and a fresh cut on his right hand. “I do now.”

  Sigfrid’s strawberry blond, and turning whiter, hair guaranteed an old age without thinning.Something Markell was beginning to dread.

  “We’re leaving Sol sector tonight!” Markell said seriously.

  “Leaving? Where?”

  “South of Coalition.”

  “That’s uhmm...Nilges’s sector.”

  “Very good, but no, free space. Your nephew’s alive.”

  “WHAT?” Sigfrid exclaimed, hearing earlier the fugitives had likely perished on Apothos.”

  “Yes, but we need to go soon,” Markell said.

  “Mark, she’s ready, just give the word.”