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It took over two hours (with Mark having to slow down to maintain control even with Mickey’s help) before Mark and his escort came in low over the Space Port. As big as the port was Mark became confused when the pit the navigation line said was the Star Queen could be seen from 20 miles away by all the lights in the general area. Thinking he must have the wrong pit, he started orbiting the port to come in from the other or back side of the port where he knew the Star Queen was only a few pit rows inside without having to fly over 90% of the ships in the port including the one that was lit up beyond belief. Suddenly port approach control came on and told him to return to the approach lane they had originally given him. Protesting that he was headed for the wrong pit they informed him that all the lights where from the news services, military, police and the people that came to see some big shot’s arrival at the Star Queen. That he best be landing as they were going to shut all traffic down when he got there for the V.I.P.’s arrival.
After crossing over the majority of the port he started slowing down to a crawl as he dropped down to a hundred feet. He could not help but recognize his Star Queen as he got closer as brightly lit up as it was. People seemed to be streaming towered his pit from every ship in sight. He wonderedwho the big shot was that was visiting the ship. Sliding past ship after ship as he descended he passed the tramp ship Dora May sitting in the pit next to the Star Queen and could not believe all the people that seemed to be headed for the Queen let alone how packed the pit area around the Queen was looking. Every ship within miles seemed to have their landing lights pointed at the Queen lighting her up like a stage. And then as he came in over the berm separating the pits, every light in and around the pit hit him straight in the eyes blinding him until Mickey could cut in the filters and even then all he could see was blackness below him. “Mickey put me on infrared please. What is wrong with you tonight? You are a bit slow.”
“Most of my effort babe, is devoted to keeping the fighter aloft and stable. With all the damage I am continuing to have to recalculate flight control bypass settings by the millisecond. We need to get on the ground before we lose control completely Hun.”
On Infra-Red he could not see a clearing in the mass of hot bodies milling around the pit below with room enough to set down safely. Circling the ship he hopped to find a place but the pit was getting fuller by the minute. Finely after the 3rd time around he saw a clearing opening up and started to set it down until the Captain of his escort told him it was a tent someone just set up. Feeling foolish and figuring enough was enough he carefully added power and started climbing as he tried to think of what to do. Passing one of the ships large cargo hatch’s as he circled the ship he suddenly had a brilliant idea. “Mickey can you open one of the cargo hatches for me to set down on please.”
A few seconds later. “Sorry Mark. I would love to but all the cargo holds are manually locked.”
“Damn it. All I need is a place to set down. The lights from the ships around the pit lighting up the ship bright enough to see every flaw and ding and rust spot up and down the old ship as he climbed above cargo hold A with its faded letter barley readable on the hatch. Above and to one side of the big faded A was a faded number 4 with another faded number 3 some 60 feet farther around the side of the ship. The outlines of a 40ft wide by 20 some foot high hatch surrounded each number. On around to each side a double staggered row of 12 foot wide square hatches marked the life boat launch tubes. As he orbited around to the opposite side of the ship, another pair of 20ft by 40ft hatches marked Shuttle Locks 1 and 2. Hatches that covered the homes of the four 100ft long by 20ft wide shuttle boats the ship had used for inner system transport at one time. Now only two of the big boats were left operational with weapons mounted for ship's defense. The 12 foot square hatches were for the life boats when the ship was younger hauling paying customers and the law required a seat in a life pod or boat for everyone aboard ship. Only now, most of the life boats were junk, replaced by antique hull guns and torpedo tubes. While the ship’s 2 remaining shuttle boats sat in locks 2 and 4 facing each other. They had lost one shuttle 21 years before during a pirate attack with the 4th shuttle heavily damaged serving as spare parts to keep the last two working shuttles operational.
“Mickey, I and my buddies snuck into number 3 boat lock once when I was 8 years old and it was completely empty but very spooky with all the piles of cloths and luggage and junk scattered around. We snuck in through an old air shaft with our little flashlights. We didn’t stay long because it was so spooky and smelled bad as we ran around the compartment with our little flashlights. Got my butt beat for it when the grownups found out, but no one ever told me why except to say that it was forbidden as they welded up the vent we had used to get in through. Can you tell me if anything is in it now or at least if you can open the hatch?”
“All the sensors are none operational and have been out for 21 years according to records. But the hatch is unlocked. With a warning not to be opened for any reason. Do you want me to open it?”
“Hell yes, at least I can land and it is even closer to Sick Bay.”
As Mark watched; dust and rust popped out of the edges of the hatch as it started to open and then stopped after only traveling a couple of feet. “Shit Mickey. Close it and try again.” The hatch closed and then opened almost half way down before sticking again. “Once more Mickey.” Mark would have sworn that as it hit bottom the third time it went thump even though there was not anyway he could have possibly heard it.
“Extending the deck know Mark. I should have it extended in 5 minutes.” But Mark was not waiting and headed for the deck that was slowly lengthening out across the open hatch. Mark found out the hard way that a rough unsteady orbit around the ship was easy compared to trying to thread a needle and land into the little 20 by 40 foot hole the deck was coming out of with a fighter that did not want to change direction unless it wanted to when it wanted to or stay flying in a straight line no matter what Mark wanted. The deck slowly rolled out from inside the hatch on a pair of beams that slid out from under the deck through notches in the hull left by the pair of hatch arms. The lock was 150 foot long and 60 feet wide inside the hatch while the landing deck that was sliding out was 150 foot long by 40 foot wide.
“Mark if you will wait for me to finish extending the deck I will be able to give my full attention to controlling the fighter. Wright now I am having to control multiple motors at different varying rates of power to compensate for the damage done to the ramp and corrosion to keep it from twisting and jamming in the half open position. If it jams half open it will be unusable and unsafe and will require major repair work before it can be moved or used.”
“Why didn’t you say so to begin with Mickey? Well anyway, everything else I have done since getting back to the port has been embarrassing so why stop now.” Mark pulled up and started circling the bow. Finding it hard to maintain altitude or a strait heading he finally simply let it settle into a shallow climbing turn toward the dead engine on the Port side as the sputtering Starboard engine continued to push the fighter around. Figuring the more altitude he had the more time he would have to react if something else went wrong anyway. Realizing that the damaged sputtering Starboard engine was why he was having such a hard time controlling the fighter. Yet he dared not shut it down. The central engine was sputtering almost as bad and if it stopped working while the other engine was off, the fighter would drop like rock since the auxiliary generator was destroyed and the fighter’s plasma battery was all but empty and unable to power the landing/maneuvering gravcoils.
Then he heard a bang as he lost the second engine leaving him only the central engine that decided to go from sputtering to burping large flames out its tail pipe.
Already fixated on the hatch off to his left Mark kicked the rudder as he banked around and headed for the small hole in the side of the ship far below him. At least it was downhill. He thought as he dove for it. A quick glance around
showing the ground below still covered with people as fare as he could see.
The fighter bucking under him as the central and only remaining engine continued to belch intermittent flames out its tail pipe shaking the whole fighter each time as he headed for the ridiculously small hole in the side to the ship. Using his will to force the fighter to head for the hatch even though it did not want to.
“No Mark. Head away from the ship and out across the perimeter of the Port. I detect an emergency pit area designed for landing damaged ships.”
“Ya I know about the death pit but I am not ready to die yet and Dian needs help now.” Mark watched the rapidly approaching hatch as he fought the fighter that wanted to go anyplace but the all too small hole in the side to the ship. “Help me get the gear down already.” He said as he slapped the landing gear switch.
“Mark, I still do not have the ramp all the way completely out yet. You must head for the empty Pit to your right.”
Mark glanced again at the empty pit and the hundreds of hot spots scattered across it headed for the Queen’s packed pit and then at Dian that did not look like she was breathing with her body temp far below the rest. “No Mickey, too far away. I should have landed at the damn militaries emergency field where she could have gotten help long ago. We have to land in the damn ship now.”
The fighter was headed down at almost a 30 degree dive as Mark tried to point their nose at the all too small hole in the side of the ship. They rapidly gained speed Mark fought to keep the fighter pointed at the open hatch. “Mickey I can’t seem to get the retro thrusters to work. We are picking up speed fast.”
“Pull your nose up and level the fighter and let the gravcoils do the work slowing us down as we descend. You must allow me to finish running the ramp all the way out before its landing aids, barriers, nets and emergency crash devices will be activated.”
The fighter’s single remaining engine continued to burp sending long streams of flames out behind them as Mark watched the plasma gage drop each time. The falling plasma gage bouncing on zero.
“Damn it Mickey, I don’t think we have the time to slow down. I just hope we have enough plasma to flair before we hit the ramp.” Mark wrestled the fighter back onto course for the open hatch and the ramp stretching out from it. “That is if I can even hit the damn ramp. But then crashing into it is not a good idea either.” Mark suddenly had an idea. “Finish lowering the landing gear Mickey that should slow us down a little and hopefully absorb some of our velocity when we hit the ramp.”
“I cannot lower the landing gear Mark. You will have to do it manually. I am sorry Mark but I risked the time and have now calculated that you do not have enough plasma left in the battery to slow down and land on the ramp without crashing. Killing both Dian and you without the landing gear down to absorb the impact and keep the fighter from bouncing eater off the ramp or into the side of the Star Queen’s hull without the ramp locked in the deployed position and the landing aids activated. You must reach the emergency manual gear deployment lever on the back of the console between the acceleration tubs. That is if it will even deploy as much damage as has been don’t to the fighter.”
Mark turned his head to look where Mickey highlighted the control lever that was back behind his shoulder. It was in easy reach of the weapons/navigation officer but Mark didn’t think he could reach it even if he could let go of the control stick long enough to open its cover and pull it. Glancing at Dian he knew she was no help if she was even still alive.
“You have got to be kidding.” Mark turned back to watch the rapidly approaching much too narrow ramp and ridiculously small open hatch. Still fighting to keep the fighter lined up and upright.
“You are running out of time Mark. You must pull that lever.”
Mark thought about how to go about doing just that without losing control of the fighter and crashing into the side of the Star Queen.
Mark glanced at the lever again trying to figure out how he could even bend his arm around and reach the damn lever let alone pull it without unbuckling his harness and turning around to face it. Which he didn’t have time to do anyway.
Watching the rapidly approaching ramp, Mark finely reached across with his free hand and grabbed the control stick and then bent his elbow up toward the canopy so he could bend his forearm back to reach the lever.
The fighter immediately started to roll as Mark fumbled with the latch covering the lever from being accidentally pulled. Upside down and facing the bottom of the pit far below with the transport in the next pit above him. He watched his hand (in his heads-up display) fumble with the latch as he forced his arm back behind him sending pain lancing through joints and muscles that had never been bent that way before.
He jerked the fighter back around level trying to keep the grave coils pointed somewhat down to keep the fighter from falling out of the sky completely while trying to realign the fighter’s nose back toward the hatch and ramp. Only to have the fighter role past level and fall off the other way.
Mark finely got the latch off the lever and tried to pull it only to find he had no leverage with his arm in the position it was. Each time he tried to pull the lever, pain started shooting up his arm.
“Mark you have to pull the gears emergency activation lever now. You can do it if you ignore the pain and just do it.”
With the ramp rapidly rushing up toward the upside down fighter Mark gritted his teeth and pulled the lever letting out a yell from the pain and immediately heard a loud bang as the emergency activation cartridge exploded sending high pressure gas down the lines to the actuators and the gear slammed down with a thud. The gear down and locked lights flashed on.
Bringing his hand back around Mark pushed Dian’s head back around into the tub as she screamed then grabbed the control stick and whipped the fighter back around upright just as they slammed down onto the landing platform. The engine letting out one final flaming tail that streaked hundreds of feet out from the platform through the smoke from the other two engines as Mickey shut down the now empty plasma battery and activated the fire suppression systems flooding the engines with foam and killing the engines completely. Trying to keep the heavily damaged fighter from blowing up as it started shedding parts from impacting the ramp as it sailed toward the hatch.
The gear had telescoped back into their hosing absorbing most of the impact keeping it down to only 30 gees and what the cockpit grav tubs could compensate for. Transposing most of the downward energy into forward velocity, the fighter skidded along the ramp and in through the hatch that still looked far too small. The sides of the lock lined with destroyed maintenance equipment spaced along the bulkheads like ghosts in the dim light after the landing gear lights shining out ahead as the fighter passed them. The piles of half burned rags and holed luggage, boxes and blasted crates scattered across the deck of the lock outside the narrow 20 foot wide cleared articulated panel strip running down its center that was still unrolling from just short of the far end. The lock looking strange and unnatural with lines of scorch marks wherever he looked outside that narrow clean strip. Though still in shock, Mark saw every detail but could not comprehend what had gone past as fast as it was lit up.
Finally the fighter came to rest at the far end of the lock slightly turned to the side only a few feet from the end bulkhead just past the articulated deck that was still unrolling from below to cover the channel left by the main support beam of the still deploying ramp. The landing lights shining from the landing gear still shining bright round spots on the hatch to one side of the end bulkhead. The fighter’s strobe light flashing across the lock.
The ramp finally came to a stop as it finished deploying. Mickey said. “The ramp is fully deployed and locked Mark. All landing and emergency systems are now activated and operational.”
“Ya just in time hey Mickey.” Mark looked around breaking his open mouthed stare at the lock the landing lights still had lit up. Shaking his head he turned to Dian as she placed her head back onto th
e center console after being thrown ahead against her loosened restraining straps. She turned her head to look at Mark pain filled eyes sobbing.
Shaking his head he reached up and tried to open the canopy and it would not even budge. After trying the emergency release and both manual and powered switches again several times, he hit the comm to the fighter pilot he had been talking to. “Shit guys; my canopy is stuck closed. Not even the emergency release will work. I need help to open my canopy.” Looking at the closed hatch in front of him. “No one can get through the ship’s hatch into the lock so I need your help Captain Meyers. Is anyone out there?” Looking around, the lock had only 4 dim emergency lights scattered along the 150 foot long lock still operating making it look like a dungeon. Exactly like he remembered it from some 13 years before. A dark deserted junk filled dungeon. "Shit. Captain Myers, I need your help in here to get out of this damn thing." Mark pounded on the canopy with his fists.
Chapter 30 Death Lock
Captain Cook looked up as the Mustang (leaving a trail of smoke and the occasional belching flames across the pit glided into view. The video and news lights lighting it up for all to see and what she saw shocked her. It was a piece of junk with laser pocks and gouges all over it. Jagged pieces of wings and fins hung at odd angles barely attached. The whole side of the cockpit armor on one side was gone with some kind of tub in full view with a pockmark punched half way through it like someone had hit it with a damn big hammer. One of the pair of cannons on that side was bent out at a 45 degree angle from the wing root while the other was cut off completely leaving only a stub. The strake that originally covered them was half gone with jagged edges blossomed out. Half the weapons bays where just jagged holes with the doors half gone or hanging at strange angles. What was left of the control surfaces constantly moving back and forth trying to maintain some stability with the help of thrusters continually firing in bursts up and down and to the sides.
Tramp Wars: The Enemy Page 86
