Starring back into the hold Mark slid the blaster off his back at the ready and watched as the marines policed the now quiet hold checking every nook and cranny for hidden enemy. Taking a deep breath he could smell the ozone, vaporized metals and burnt guts and flesh. Suddenly retching from the smell he wanted to through up but couldn‘t. Thanking Godstar that he had eaten only half his breakfast before being kicked out of the mess.
Finely composing himself he asked. “Mickey is anyone else wounded?”
“Yes Mark. A dozen marines had their armor pierced but are alive, several of the junk men are wounded. You killed…” A couple of marines with a stretcher between them came running up to jump into the next elevator and disappear up the shaft.
“Godstar, I don’t give a rat's ass about them. What about my guys?”
“They are all fine. A few near miss singes, and one with reportedly minor eye burns that medics are treating. They will be transporting shortly. Nothing you can help with at the moment. Just sit and relax.”
Relaxing, letting his butt drop back down onto his heels, Mark could see no reason to get up except he felt like he should be doing something as the adrenaline pumped threw his blood but his body along with the pain in his head after the previous night and day wanted nothing to do with his desires. Kneeling there, enjoying the show going on around him. To exited to sit but not believing what had just happened and seeing no reason to get up as he starred across the hold with the video replays of the battle rerunning in his mind, trying to make sense of it all.
Chapter 14 Big Bomb
“Mr. Collins!” Barked the Captain from behind him. “Why are you here and what the hell has been going on down here?”
Climbing to his feet using the rifle as a crutch Mark frowned. Too many images running through his head. “Well Captain. It would be easier to show you if you please Sir.” Mark dragged his butt across the deck with the help of the riffle until his legs loosened up again, walking towered the center of the hold his steps getting easier as he walked. Walking by the Planetary sensor Torpedo they had first retrieved he kicked it sending it rolling across the hold until it hit the little up curled lip of the laser melted pit. “That Captain; is a Million Credit sensor Torpedo the weapons officer ah… You, bought 20 years ago. The junk Bum Boocoo fired at us as we were carrying it back to track town.” Pointing at the laser scar across the deck. Turning to the left he walked over past the Dink’s gory remains and Boocoos' still standing legs and sat on a Torpedo storage shipping case as far from the other gruesome bodies as he could get, crossing one leg over the knee of the other and waited for the Captain to catch up and stop looking around at all the bodies and damage.
Mark doing his best not to look started taking apart and cleaning the blaster with Mickey’s helpful directions as he waited. Placing the parts around him on the torpedo shipping case. Several marines checking the bodies scattered around the junk, kept glancing at Mark as he broke down the weapon with unpracticed hands. Having to fumble with the unfamiliar parts as he worked.
Several police cruisers landed on the ramp outside the hold. Their sirens blaring making it impossible for the Captain to hear him anyway.
As he was reassembling the Blast gun he started having problems with the chamber slide not wanting to go in. After a good minute and as Mark started to get frustrated. One of the nearby marines stepped over and guided the peace into place for Mark then stepped back to what he was doing.
Then as the hold quieted again except for the sounds of the Marines policing the area and trying to dig out the screaming junk man buried under the scrap pile dumped on him, Mark finely noticed the Captain staring at him. Mark continued. Sir; these are Mk 56 Torpedoes. 48 of them. The Junk Bum thought he needed them more than we did. I sent the men into the piles of junk to hide and then out came a bunch of Bums with laser riffles.”
Mark took a breath deciding to skip a few details. “Then when Pop got the drop on them with this thing.” Patting the blaster. “The dirt bag in the airtruck shot Pop and pop pulled the trigger as he went down blasting the junk bum called Dink there.” Mark starred at the legs still propped up against each other.
Shaking his head he continued. “And then the other bum Boocoo made Farman and me help dig these out at gun point." Pointing up at the cab. "After my men and I altered our torches into weapons we counter attacked just as their stupid reinforcements showed up and after a messy fight the Marines finely showed up.” Mark leaned forward, his chin in the palm of his hand, his elbow on his knee. Exhausted. Oh and you might change the assault timing for the marines so they don't get caught out on the open ramp without support in the hold first, to be taken out by the ass holes taking cover around the Cargo hatch. Should stop the trucks and marines from getting their assess shot off next time."
The Captain starred at Mark turning redder by the second. Puzzled, Mark just stared back not understanding the Captains reaction.
“You get your lazy good for nothing ass up and at attention when you report to me or any superior officer Mr. Collins. And just who the hell gave you permission to counter attack anyone on my ship. We have specific plans and procedures for dealing with emergencies including armed morons taking hostages in a hold. You murdered at least a dozen men from what I can see when my marines could have captured them without a death if you had not interfered. And just for your information Mr. Collins, they had a contract that gave them ownership of everything on this hold’s deck. Including these stupid torpedoes whether we knew they were there or not. Since I paid only a few thousand credits for each of those Mk 36 not 56 torpedoes 22 years ago with the sensor torpedoes thrown in as a bonus to seal the deal, they are not worth as much as you think they are.” The Captain shook her head sadly. “Since we already have our magazines full of torpedoes, they really are not worth anything to us Mr. Collins, so you destroyed your short career for nothing.”
As the Captain turned around and walked off Mark did not know what to say as he stood at attention until Mickey spoke up. “Mark the Captain is mistaken. These torpedoes are Mrk 56's. The best long range enhanced tor…”
Mark suddenly new as he jumped up. “Captain Sir. Our magazines are full of short range Mark 16 stupid torpedoes that are as likely to target a cold asteroid as a ship or some star a thousand light years away if not turning back on us. These babies really are Mark 56’s with 3 times the range and are counter measure proof and can be programmed as mines to lay in wait for a specific target. They have a warhead powerful enough to destroy a cruiser but can be programmed to target the engines; detonating close enough to disable but not kill the ship. Shit they can even be recalled if the target surrenders or you change your mind” Following the Captain. “Whoever you bought them from must have been an idiot. The sensor torpedoes can not only land on a planet but tell you what is around the other side of a solar system without being detected and are recoverable and reusable. We cannot afford to lose these weapons Captain. Hell; they are worth more than all our other weapons combined as well as what is in our hole fucking pot as it is.”
The Captain stopped and whipped around. “We have nothing in our pot right now Ensign so that is not hard to do. As for the Torpedoes, I am the one that bought them Mr. Collins and I told you it does not matter what they are worth. Everything on this deck is theirs by contract!”
“No Sir!” Mark took a deep breath. “I was not completely asleep in contracts class and every damn contract I studied had a no weapons clause stating that carrying or smuggling weapons into the ship for any reason under any circumstances constituted a violation of the contract making the contact knoll and void sir.”
“But did you know that before you and your men decided to steel their property?”
“Why should that matter Sir?” Mark stepped closer to the Captain. “If they had a beef; all they had to do is file a complaint and the courts or you would have given them the items back at a later date according to the contract. Firing and holding crewmen hostage is against the law even
on this planet.”
“Because they can say that they brought the weapons aboard after you threatened them and stole their property Mr. Collins. Though that still does not make it legal, so maybe you can avoid a death sentence.” Starring at the Ensign for a second while police officers with the owner of the junk company on the contract walked up. The Captain continued. “Did you know before you interfered in their operations that they had weapons on board the ship?”
Mark’s mind was racing as he tried to think as he watched the Junk Company owner climb into the loader's cab and examine the same hand screen as the loader had. Letting out a little whistle of appreciation as he smiled and then dropped the tablet back into its pocket. Mark knew that he had to come up with something else to justify his actions but what?
“I thought as much Ensign. The Officers here have my permission to arrest you for murder. Don’t say a word to them before the ships attorney can talk to you son.”
“I hope you don't need your nice fat Pot Captain.” said the owner. “On top of the 48 weapons and launchers worth some 50 million credits since they are mark 56s and Intel 104s you are going to lose the entire 84 million in your pot as compensation for me and my men. Hell Captain I doubt if you will even be able to afford to lift by the time I and my associates get done with you.”
"Ok." Mark thought to himself as he looked down at the casings of the 104s laying loose on the deck and the shipping crates with no markings on the outside of them. How could anyone tell what they were? "That tablet must have told him they were 56s and 104s but how the hell does he know how much is in the pot. Taking a deep breath. “Spying Captain!” Mark’s voice cracked as he practically yelled. “They had a high powered sensor probing the ship Sir. That is against the contract as well making it null and void sir. Allowing a ship’s officer, me, to change the conditions and terms of the contract verbally on the spot. Making it legal for me to take the torpedoes as a condition of them continuing with the remaining terms of the contract, I, E, removing my approved items as long as I saw fit. Also allowing me to retaliate with any and all force I deemed fit as soon as the driver of the loader pulled a weapon, including termination to save Star Queen Crewmen lives. Not having the time to wait for the marines that could take hours with pop dying on the deck. I tried to arrest the junk yard bums only to be met with deadly force. Forcing me to return fire with deadly force.”
Turning back around again the Captain showed cautious disbelief. “How would you know that they were scanning the ship Mr. Collins?”
“I detected it while I was up at my work shop sir. That is how I found the torpedoes. From the radiation backscattering from their sensor sweeps of the ship. That is how they know about the value of our fake pot.”
“Oh or maybe they have a spy on the ship that over heard one of the 5 people that know about it talking in their sleep. If they do have these sensors Ensign. How do you know they were not just using them to sort the trash?”
“Because they spent the morning taking JUNK from the starboard side of the ship while there was a hundred million gold credits worth of equipment sitting on the port side of the hold just outside of their sensor beams that where much too powerful to even detect anything on this deck. Not to mention that the sensor beams were pointed straight up into the main passenger section of the ship or straight down at the stern and the cargo holds. The proof is in just what the owner has said about what all is aboard the ship. Including the fake pot put there for them to find sir.
“Your pot or vault of gold on deck 13 is fake! All 84 million credits of it." The look of disappointment on the man's face was fleeting. "It does not matter. It is my business if my men decided to leave the torpedoes until the last or not.” Stated the owner of the junk company. “You have no right to take it by written contract law.”
“Oh so you do admit your men where probing the ship? How else did you know how much was in our pot and were it is... As I said only 5 officials on this ship know the fake value and even fewer know where it is.”
“Now that was a guise Captain. They used the sensors like you said to sort the valuable items from the junk. You can’t prove otherwise.”
“Why bother if you are just loading the piles from one end to the other. And I see no sorted piles except what our men was sorting at gunpoint. So how did you find out so much about this ship and yet did not start loading the torpedoes until my men showed them to you?”
“That is none of your business Captain but aaaa it takes time to get the proper handling equipment to keep from damaging them.”
Turning to look at the stacked torpedoes and sensor pipes rolling around the deck the Captain smiled. “Looks like your men could care less about being careful once they found out what they were. But then half the junk you have sorted out as junk contain sensor torpedoes. So much for using your sensors to find the torpedoes and knowing what you are doing.”
“Mickey? They have to have some kind of control panel here for the sensors. Where is it?” Mark started walking towered the loader. “It has to be on the tablet he glanced at when he got here right?”
“The sensor Pod is on top of the loader’s cab. It looks like an air conditioner. The screen is connected to it through an infrared link to avoid interference from the sensor beams. But there is something wrong with the pod. A whole section I cannot probe with my low powered sensors threw the heavy shielding on that part of the unit. Shielding designed to interfere with sensors. Even the sensors on the unit. Shielding witch also blocked them from scanning much of the hold itself until the driver changed to a different frequency using a narrow beam and then it had to be pointed at specific targets like the torpedo you and your men were carrying. It would take considerable time to scan the whole deck accurately.”
“They were in a hurry afraid your men were going to steel what was legally ours.” Said the Junkman.
“Your men had the weapons Mr. not my men. And all you had to do is present the contract to prove your case in court or even wait until I got here to give them back to you. You did not have to take my crew hostage, weld up the hatch or shoot them.”
The junk company owner spotted Mark climbing into the cab of the loader. “Stop him!” He screamed as he pulled a laser pistol from under his coat. “The Murderer is trying to escape. Shoot him.” Before anyone could move he fired at Mark hanging half in the cab with his butt sticking out. Hitting the cab roof just grazing the rear of the AC unit. A second shot hit the front of the Air conditioning unit square on penetrating the light plastic case as one of the Police officers knocked the gun out of his hands twisting him around and cuffing him.
“Thanks.” said the policeman sitting on top of the guy. “As the Port's Security Chief I have not arrested anyone in years. I am glad I still have the moves.”
Mark backed out of the cab turning as he started to climb down and then jumping the last few feet. Holding the screen in both hands he tried to get it to work but it remained blank. “Mickey come on girl I need your help here. How do I get it to work?” He said under his breath.
“That is my company's property. Take your hands off it.”
Captain Cook looked over Marks shoulder at the blank screen. “What? I can’t understand is why you missed my ensign at such close range with both shots but you did hit the top of the cab within inches of each other, both hit on the AC pod on top. As good a hit as you could get from your angle. Mr. Wheeler I want that pod checked and pulled immediately.”
"You can't do that to private property!" The junk yard owner turned to the officer. “You going to arrest me or not? Just get me out of here.”
“Mark. The encryption codes on this unit is very sophisticated and will take a few more minutes to break using the infrared link. You must start carrying my interface units with us to facilitate contact with units such as this. You can carry them in your tool pouch. It is taking the majority of my power to keep up with the shifting algorithms using such slow connection speeds. I have to predict what it wants before it tel
ls me to have the answer ready to down load through the connection in time. With a hard connection I could have broken through it in milliseconds.”
“Ok? Why is this guy wanting out of here all of a sudden” Mark said to himself. A couple of technicians started climbing up onto the loader. Mark turned just in time to see the Junk man stand up and kick the officer in the head kung-foo stile.
“You pigs going to arrest me or not fuckers!” Still hand cuffed, he started to run around the junk pile and towered the open hatch and the police cars; away from the loader.
“Stop!” Mark yelled not at the fleeing junkman but at the technicians on the loader getting ready to take the cover off the AC unit. With both hands on the screen he could do nothing in time as they finished unscrewing the cover. “Don’t lift that cover!” Mark shouted.
Tramp Wars: The Enemy Page 44
