Tramp Wars: The Enemy

by Larry Roberts

  “My stars Mark! We are so screwed.” Getting up Steve turned to Mark. “Hey and it’s all your fault man.” Then headed for the hatch.

  Mark sat there for several minutes being ignored as he tried to ask several of the ensigns from the previous night what he was supposed to do but getting ignored. Feeling deserted as the ward room emptied. Various officers talked and planned as they left. Some broke out paper work and others got coffee and just relaxed reading or writing reports. Feeling out of place he finely decided that he may as well head for the engine room which technically was his last assignment. Maybe the Chief would tell him what to do. He always knew and besides he had to be over being pissed at him by now. Wouldn’t he?

  But as soon as he entered the engine room, the looks he got said he was out of place here as well in his dress white uniform with the fruit plastered across his chest as well. Stubbornly he walked across the open space to the control room hatch. He could see the Chief inside through the armored window. Walking into the Control room Mark reported to the Chief. “Chief; Ensign Collins reporting for duty.” and saluted.

  The Chief saw Mark inter the hatch and watched him walk up to him. The Chief’s face was blank only recognizing Mark as an officer as he approached, Mark realized. Then Mark spoke and the Chief took a step back. His face growing rapidly red.

  “Get the Hell out of my Engine room you son of a bitch traitor. I don’t ever want to see you here again. Got me? You good for nothing sludge bucket moron!” The Chief raised his hand to strike Mark but as Mark starred at him not believing what was happening the Chief finely turned and walked away. “Get out! Get out of the Engine Rooms!” He said without even looking over his shoulder.

  Mark left the engineering spaces feeling abandoned and without thinking he wound up at his Clubhouse/shop hung in A-Hold and the new Tramptown. After tinkering for a few minutes straightening and putting things away in their new dedicated shop box he wondered through the door cut into the bulkheads between the sides of the boxes and found that the mess he had made in the play room was cleaned up though a few glasses and bottles still littered the place. He thought about working on a project he had been putting off but in his dress whites he realized it probably was not a good idea after spending 10 minutes cleaning a dirt spot on his sleeve off after just walking through the new shop box. It was too damn easy to get his whites dirty. Suddenly realizing why Officers had a tendency not to do much dirty work in their clean khaki uniforms. He suddenly hated being an officer. Regretting letting the Captain talk him into taking the oath. "But then I really didn’t have a choice did I". He said to himself.

  "No Mark. You did not." Mickey said. "But give it time. You are going to be a great officer and Captain of your own ship someday even if the Captain has no intentions of ever promoting you outside of Engineering."

  Not caring about promotions since he was regretting even becoming an officer Mark walked out onto the grating. The sound of heavy machinery got his attention and he walked down to the end of the boulevard overlooking the hold. He watched a scoop claw loader picking up junk and dropping it into a dump airtruck as another airtruck landed on the open hatch. He could not remember every seeing either of those pieces of equipment on the Star Queen before. Then realized they must be from the company contracted to haul off the junk in the hold. The logo on the side confirming that.

  “Mark?” Mickey said. “I have detected sensor radiation emanating from the loader in the hold. It seems to be studying the ship.”

  “Why would anyone want to study the ship? Maybe they are studying the trash looking for valuables to sort out? That would make more sense. After all they are junk men. But what could be valuable in that pile?” Mark looked wondering.

  Things started lighting up scattered through the piles of trash. “Blue represents low value items while bright red represents the most valuable.” Mickey said “But I do not think that the sensor radiation is directed to the piles of junk. The power is much too high as well. At that power setting anything closer than a couple hundred feet in the open would be washed out at the wave lengths being used. No this wave length is used on penetrating sensors for looking through decks and hard objects though not powerful enough to penetrate the thick hull or set off alarms while they are inside the ship. It requires a lot of long repeated scan times but it can detect small objects at great detail if given time.” The airtruck the loader had been loading, taxied out to the ramp and took off while the empty truck taxied into its position as the loader continued to clear the junk around the hatch. The loader arm bumping the overhead every once in a while though it did not seem to make much noise doing it.

  Mark starred around the hold. If he looked at an item it would tell him what it was as well as what it was possibly worth. “Come on Mickey. At least try to filter out the things not usable to us in the outback.” The lights went out in most of the piles but several bright red lights still remained and several scattered around the piles started flashing. Focusing on one, a description appeared over the light that said. “Imperial Planetary sensor torpedoes (12 of them). Valued at one million credits each.” Another none flashing red light next to it said “Anti-ship Torpedoes Mk. 56 (48 of them) worth 150,000 credits each and launch pods (8) worth 50,000credits each.”

  “I calculate that the ship has a 98% chance of using these items with in the next year Mark.”

  “No shit Sherlock. How the hell did they get there anyway?”

  “That I cannot tell you Mark but indications are that they have been there buried for over 20 years and the piles that where pushed around last night uncovered them.”

  “My stars; this must have been a junk hold a lot longer than I thought.” Studying the junk piled on top and around the torpedoes Mark ran over in his mind how to get them out. “Well no sense in letting the junk man take them.” Turning around Mark headed for his shop when he heard a distant voice.

  “Now don’t you look all snazzy in your pretty dress white uniform?”

  Mark stopped, then backed up and looked down the narrow alley between two storage boxes. Pop sat in his rocker, a book in his hand and the cat on his lap in an open area in front his cabin box at the end of the alley. Walking down the alley. “I am so glad to see they didn’t push your old keester out the hatch Pop.”

  “The Captain wouldn’t dare Mr. Collins.” Taking his pipe out of his mouth. “So you finely let them make an Officer out of you hey? Told you your past would catch up to you son. I love how you got the kids into some decent Cabins. Now; for that, they should give you a medal.”

  “What! How did you find out about that Pop?”

  “I know a lot of things.

  “How! Well. I’ll be…” All Mark could do was chuckle. “Well then. Maybe you could tell me where those Mk.56 Torpedoes came from and how they got lost under all that junk so many years ago?”

  “Torpedoes? Where?” Pop looked down between the boxes next to him towered the junk piles.

  “Oh... Out under tons of junk off to the port side.”

  “Ha. You don’t say. How do you know then if you can’t see them? Ahh yes. You have been seeing a lot of things since you got those new glasses. Those would not happen to have come in a small very old crystal case would they now son?”

  “And what if they did Pop?” Mark was surprised and then looked suspiciously at the old man.

  “Just legends I have heard a long time ago. But it would explain your new sight very well.” Taking a puff on his pipe he smiled and continued. “So what did you name him?”

  “What?”

  “Your AI son. They always have names in the legends”

  “Mickey; but I never heard of any legends about smart AI glasses pop.”

  “Probably because no one wears glasses anymore and it was long ago, but remind me sometime and I will tell you. But for now how close is this junk man to the Torpedoes?”

  “He is working down the opposite side write now; probably take him most of the day to get to them.”

/>   “Is that what your AI tells you or are you guessing?”

  “What…I was guessing but she agrees ok?”

  “She? Now that is unusual. All the legends I have heard have the gender of the AI the same as the agent. Though the name sounds male.”

  Mark looked at the old man and sighed. “Ok? The case had MICKE embossed on it so I just called her, Mickey. Something about her original inspector controller being etched into her circuits when the bombs went off a thousand years ago. What can you tell me about the Torpedoes Pop?”

  “Well. Let me think. As I recall. The Weapons Security officer at the time, our Mr. Cook bought them for ships defense. To prevent the pirates from taking the ship before they could board and kill and take slaves. We had been hearing to damn many stories about to many pirates killing ships and taking slaves as we slowly worked our way out away from the core worlds. But the Captain and ships board at the time did not believe in shooting and killing an entire ship just because they would take a little cargo and decided we would continue to use a passive defense if by some chance we ran into a pirate ship. Let the Pirates take what little they wanted without putting up a fight and they would see reason and let us go without harming anyone. Especially if we hid most of the pot and let them have a fake pot with enough to make most pirates happy and leave.” Taking another puff, Pop shook his head in sadness. “It had worked fairly well for oh 8 or 9 years with the ship being taken a couple of times and each time the Pirates only took the fake pot, some cheap jewelry off the Council welcoming committee and left.

  Then as we drifted closer to the outback, the pirates turned mean and nasty and started taking slaves and killing people. Killing a few crewmen and taking a few women the third time and that was when the new security officer bought the torpedoes along with weapons for the marines without asking permission but was refused permission to mount the torpedoes let alone use them. The few dead and taken family members up to that time where just an anomaly and the council felt that it was not worth killing a good portion of a pirate ship's crew with torpedoes just because they may take a few lives. It was a shame the supply officer was such a pacifist at the time and sided with the Council and supposedly destroyed them to make sure they would never get used by anyone. I knew better but could never find them. It was a shame he was one of those killed with Captain Adams when Lieutenant Cook was handed the Star Queen. Maybe he would have coughed up where he had hid them.

  Mark’s mouth dropped open. “Captain Cook was a lieutenant when she took command of the Queen?”

  “Wasn’t much left of the Queen by then and it was the best decision Captain Addams ever made and his last…. Captain Cook armed the ships entire crew from a secret stash, saved the ship and over the years when we could afford it, we armed the ship with first the worthless 5 inch 21cal hull guns and a few old Mk. 16 torpedoes and then the 5inch 38cal, turrets to take out pirate ships at long rang or at least discourage them a little but I could never find the damn smart Torpedoes. Just one of them is worth the entire load of cheap dumb torpedo’s we now have in the magazines. The stupid Mk 16 torpedoes are only good if the pirates are deaf and dumb and damn slow or to close to dodge. But they are good at scarring anyone not familiar with their abilities.” Laughing as he put his hand on his chest and started coughing. “And all this time I have been living on top of the damn things.” Grabbing a hold of Mark he pulled him closer. You get those bitching Torpedoes boy and make sure they get mounted this time. Now get moving I’ll see about getting you some help down here.” Pushing him away as he got up dumping the cat. “Come on lightning, we have work to do!”

  Grabbing his utility belt Mark headed for the crane. As he climbed in he realized he still had his dress whites on but it was too late to change, but then change into what and how dirty could you get in a control cab. Folding the conex transport head up against the crane's bottom frame he brought out the claw for picking up junk and tested it.

  With the first claw of junk Mark stopped. At a loss for where to place it until he noticed the junk loader moving closer to the pile he was working on. He decided to be nice and help by dumping the junk he had picked up next to the loader and also blocking it from getting closer to the pile that had all the torpedoes.

  Mark had pulled half a dozen loads of junk off the pile when his phone beeped. “Sir, this is Cargo Mate 1st Class Farman Sir. I will take over for you know sir.” Looking over the side he could see the 1st class on the catwalk running around the hold next to Tramp Town where the lifter had been parked. Frowning he headed for the parking slip. He was having fun and the last thing he wanted to do was let someone else take over for him. But then someone had to get things ready for the Torpedoes once they were uncovered, how to move them safely, check them for damage and where to store them. All the things he had been mulling over in his head as he worked.

  But before he could do much besides grabbing a cart, the Cargo Mate called down. He was having problems separating some of the longer pieces of junk. He was afraid of damaging the Torpedoes underneath and what did they look like. All he could see was junk pipes. Taking his hand welding/cutting torch Mark used its aiming beam to show Farman several of the torpedo shipping crates and the sensor torpedoes that looked like pipes then started cutting pipes, cables and plates as Farman started picking up the junked aircars and other obvious none torpedo junk that had to be moved anyway to get at the torpedoes. With the arrival of more help Mark showed them how to tell which pipes or cases were valuable and let them take over cutting scrap and realizing that his hand torch was all but empty any why. Going back to the shop Mark picked up charged cells and headed back down the lift.

  “Mark! The crane has a Sensor Torpedo mixed in the junk he is taking to dump.”

  “Shit! Patch me through to Farman.”

  “Farman! Stop! Don’t dump the junk. You have a Sensor Torpedo in that mess.” Mark watched the junk slowly drain from the half open jaws of the claw before he could close them again. The Torpedo amongst the mess dropping on top of the pile and sliding half way down. Mark started running yelling for the crew working on the junk pile to join him.

  The junk man loading the Air dump trucks stopped and watched Mark and his crew pulling the Sensor Torpedo out of the pile. A nondescript peace of pipe 5 inches in diameter and 12 feet long with both ends capped. Turning to a screen he tapped it several times and then turned back, his eyes as wide as gulf ball as his jaw hit his chest. A heavy peace of hardware it took 5 men to carry it on their shoulders and then it was all they could do to stagger along.

  “Mark! You were scanned a few seconds ago by a very high powered close range sensor beam of a different type than what is being used to scan the rest of the ship.”

  "Ok so you think they know what we have. So what. It is ours. Mark was just trying to think of where to put it when a laser blast burned the deck in front of him bringing them to a sudden stop.

  Turning around Mark could see the loader operator holding a laser pistol in his hand as he leaned out. “Ok pretty boy hand over the sensor Torpedo.”

  Not believing what he was hearing Mark smiled. “You have got to be kidding Dirtbag.”

  Another shot streaked the deck next to Mark. “The next one takes your head off moron. Now drop the damn Torpedo.” The two Dump Airtruck drivers in the hold at the time came running from their trucks armed with laser Rifles. The loader pointed at the elevator hatch. “Dink, weld the hatch closed. It will give us time to grab this and leave."

  Mark took a deep breath starting to realize they were in deep shit and told Mickey to call for help. “Ok guys. Lay the Torpedo down carefully. It is worth a good million credits.” as they laid it down he realized he needed to stall for time to give the ships Marines time to get there. “What about the other Torpedoes Butthead?”

  “What other torpedoes?” The Loader driver jumped down walking towered Mark.

  “Why the ones we were trying to uncover when you interrupted us Butthead.” Mark started pushing the men
towered the piles of junk to the back side the loader was working on. He knew they would provide a maze of cover as Dink stopped a few feet short of the elevator hatch and started firing bursts at the hatch welding a small portion with each low powered burst but only hitting the seam with difficulty. “When I give you the signal; run for the junk piles guys and hide. The noise of that moron welding the elevator will cover you long enough to make the piles and disappear." Mark turned and walked toward the pile of junk burying the torpedoes until the loader operator and the other driver had their backs toward his men then pointed at a pipe under the debris while he waved his other hand bye bye, behind his back where he hoped his crew could see. "Ok guys get going." He whispered as he turned to make sure the operators attention was on the pipe.

  Mark turned as the men approached the junk piles relieved that they were almost safe. The man Dink, welding the hatch suddenly finished and started yelling. "Stop or I will shoot!" He yelled at Marks crew from half way across the hold but they were almost to the piles and picking up speed and by the time he got his riffle turned around to shoot, that part of the hold was empty.

  The loader operator turned to watch the last of the men disappear into the maze of junk piles then turned his attention to Mark and growled. "Real cute Tramper! Dink find those stupid crewmen. They can help dig out more torpedoes. Now show me some more torpedoes and if you lied to me I will cut your balls off with my pistol before I kill you."

  Mark took him to the pile they were headed for and showed him one of the Anti-Ship torpedo shipping cases buried deep inside the pile with only one end visible through the mess while ignoring the Sensor Torpedoes laying all over the top now in easy reach. “Now all you have to do is dig out a few Million credits worth of torpedoes out.”