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Trampship Wars 2 Page 4


  Blackbeard enjoyed himself tremendously as he watched the riot spread with the bodies of innocent women and children being added to the street and trapped inside the buildings as the block gangs took the opportunity to settle grievance’s or take territory by slaughtering whole blocks of cats of other breeds they considered inferior.

  By the t ime the riot was over and the body count was in. Politicians that got healthy kickbacks from the crime in those blocks would charge the police with enough crimes and lawsuits to make the cesspool down there smell sweat as flowers. And make it even harder for the police to police the crime the local politicians grew rich on. They would probably even manage to get all the criminals that had been convicted over the last year released as they charge the police with stereotyping all cats , alo ng with wrongful prosecutions . It did not matter that 90% of the crime in the city was by cats that made up less than 10% of the population. The Cats were taking over the City.

  As block by block burn ed down and hundreds of cats died under th e claws of other cats, the police were ordered to stand back . The liberal corrupt politicians in charge (especially the Cat politicians and their liberal friends ), new that once it was all over , only the Cat gangs that paid them under the table would be in control. Tripling th e credits they received. Giving them even more power as the gangs delivered more votes each el ection.

  Blackbeard laughed as music played blasting the armored windows of his office. No one would be interested in junkyards and pirates for the time being and by the time the fires were out. Not one junkyard office, house or war ehouse would be left standing not to mention the owners bein g dead in the burnt rubble . There would be nothing left to connect him with anything. And he didn’t even start it. Wishing now he had thought of it. But then it would have cost him credits and some exposure . Blackbeard laughed al l the harder as he called the cat boss he could depend upon to spread the word in the right places to make sure the humans he needed to, died .

  Chapter 3, Taking back the bombers

  2

  Captain Cook did a double take at the bid for the gun boat hulk still in lock 4. “Why the hell are they willing to pay double their already ridiculous high bid just to have Collins deliver the damn gun boat? ”

  Accepting the bid as is, Captain Cook slapped the beeping comm on her desk. “Yes. You find that damn boy yet? This ship has work to do and it isn’t getting done . Beside, I have a new job for him. I need h im to deliver the damn Gunboat .”

  “Yes Captain, he is down in the pit. The Quarter deck watch reports that an English Captain showed up with some fighters this morning before muster and Mr. Collins hasn’t been seen since.”

  “Damn him. Are the fighters still down there?” The Captain looked out her large view ports across that side of the Pit. The only thing in sight was the damn pile of junk that had been dropped out of Cargo Hold A over the last few days since they were no longer allowing outside junk trucks to land inside or even near the ship to pick up junk and trash any longer. Thanks to the damn Collin’s boy noticing the trucks picking up the garbage and junk in Cargo Hold A, leaving nerve gas and a tracking device behind after were scanning the ship for valuables. The practice of dumping junk out to be picked up down in the pits w as ere now being copied by all Tramps as fast as the word could spread. Whether the port authorities liked it or not. She had even heard a rumor already of company ships doing the same in the inner pit rings she could not see from her office cabin.

  “I don’t know how many fighters landed or took off this morning but there are still two down there Captain.”

  The Captain watched a huge military flat bead truck drift past her port as it circled the ship settling down into the pit followed by another. They were filled with fighter maintenance equipment and spare parts. Other trucks followed with more spare parts and equipment. Far too many for just the half dozen fighters that had been left the night before. Then another line of trucks carrying missiles , fleet and torpedoes and bombs appeared farther out around the pit ’ s blast ring to drift down around the ship and out of sight. Slamming her hand down on her desk as she got up and headed for the hatch. “Hell, that is a lot more equipment and ordinance than what one little 6 ship fighter section needs.”

  Stepping out past the reception desk into the passageway, the Exec stepped out of the elevator she was headed for. “Captain, half the crew is standing in line wanting to see the damn shuttle boat lock with all the 3D pictures of the dead bodies plastered all across the deck and bulkheads. Not a damn thing is getting done around the ship. The Master at arms is trying to shepherd them through as fast as he can but it simply takes time to get over the shock of it all. I still don’t believe how real it all looks. I even tried to touch several simply because they looked so real.”

  Taking a breath the Exec continued . “Many finding long lost relatives, sisters and brothers, parents and even children. Most are refusing to leave until they are damn good and ready. Mrs. Palmer had to be taken away by the medics when she broke down after finding her kids without her husband’s body anywhere in the lock. All this time she had thought that her kids were at least alive. Her husband took the kids when she was taken by the pirates and then evidentially abandoned them to leave with the few that left with the boat. I knew he was one of the ring leader traitors, but to abandon his own kids to be slaughtered. Hell he had to be one of them on the boat’s guns killing them.” The Exec shook his head as he bit his lip taking a deep breath. “Not to mention that the damn junk fighter is turning into a shrine for crying out loud.”

  “ Yes I have heard. Past time to Then turn the damn hologram off.”

  “I tried that. The damn marines won’t let me or anyone else. They keep saying something about, “So we will never forget,”.”

  “What the hell does that even mean? Talking about ridiculous. Who the hell ordered them to do that? ”

  “They say Mr. Collins did late last night before he left the lock after closing it up.”

  “I am going to kill that boy.” Pushing past the Exec, she stepped into the elevator that would take her down to the quarter deck at the bottom stern of the ship. The Exec close behind trying to get in before the elevator hatch closed when the Captain hit the override close button but almost getting his leg caught.

  Coming out of the elevator on the Quarter Deck she was met by a mass of reporters. The first thing she heard was. “Let us in to see the Death Lock!” One Reporter demanded followed by a steady stream of others.

  “What happened 21 years ago?”

  “Who murdered so many of your crew?

  “Why are you hiding the massacre?”

  “Did Commander Collins kill these people when he landed in the lock.”

  “Where those bodies hostages or captured pirates murdered by your ship Captain?”

  Captain Cook started to push through the throng of Reporters but stopped at that last allegation turning red. Grabbing the much bigger Reporter towering above her by the lapel of his expensive jacket. The end of her lit smoking stogie a fraction of an inch from his face. “We had a lock full of traitors turned Pirate after the ship was taken by Pirates and almost destroyed 21 years ago. Their leader when he failed to take the ship, killed his fellow mutineers that got in his way so he could escaped with a portion of our pot worth millions of credits in one of our gunboats too far from any system to reach in a little hundred ton shuttle boat. The mutineer and the b B lack bearded Pirate who took most of the pot money, left us to die in the void.”

  Taking a deep breath as she stared into at the reporter’s eyes as she growled with each word . “The ship almost died out there and we did not have the time or the resources to open and take care of the bodies when we were just as likely to become bodies ourselves. I left the lock welded shut as a crypt trying t o forget it ever happened since the shuttle boat that used to be there was gone . T rying to forget it ever happened . The lock has stayed sealed for 21 years until our Mr. Collins managed to open the outer hatch by remote and
landed in the damn lock because he couldn’t find anyplace else to land thanks to you guys telling the world about Mr. Collins ’s battle with the pirates and flooding our pit with your news trucks attracting thousands from the surrounding ships . ”

  The Captain puffed her stogy blowing the smoke to the side of the reporter straight into the face of the neighboring reporter . “ His opening up the lock has and forced us to remember that Pirates can crop up anywhere when basic commonsense laws are not continually and fairly enforced for everyone. Including rich spoiled brats.” Letting go of the reporter she looked around and then. “After I have talked with the ship and my crew gets over the shock and grief in a couple of days, I will hold a news conference and think about letting a few of you in to take a look. As for now, get off my ship.” Turning to the Quarterdeck Officer. “Which leg are those fighters parked next to Mr. Winters?”

  The reporter smiled from ear to ear as he said into his shoulder as he touched the camera. “Did you get that? If you fucked it up I am going to kill you.”

  “A .. … Leg 3 Captain. Most of the shuttle boat flight crews are down there now. Oh and we have a bunch of trucks landing around them now Sir.”

  “Yes I noticed but thank you. Make sure these dimwits get off the ship now. Hell. Just shut the hatch in their face. Use the outer landing leg of fin number three as the quarter deck until they vacate the quarterdeck ramp. Lets see how long they stay banging on a 6 inch thinck hull hatch wanting answers . ” Not being able to push her way through the reporters (who did not want to go anyplace) and down the narrow gangplank, the Captain took off around down the curved passageway following the hull around to landing fin 3 almost half the way around the hull from the quarter deck. Turning to step through the hatch into the wide tube running out along the bottom of the fin’s armored trailing edge that took a considerable beating each time the ship plunged down through a planet’s atmosphere stern first to land. Control s for the cooling channels running through the heat shield and volume gages covered the panels for each section’s cooling tanks , were spaced every 30 feet down the passageway next to the ladders that ran up through trunks for accessing the cooling radiators and coolant storage tanks in the upper fin. Most of the Passageway looked like it had not been accessed for years but she knew the heat shields were checked before each plung plunge through the atmosphere and landing.

  At the end of the fin , the passageway ended in a wide compartment that circled around the huge cylinder that made up the landing shock absorbing strut that extended down to the large 30 foot round landing pad that actually supported the ship while grounded. One of 8 pads that supported the ship. Four pads at the end of the four 1 30 5 0 foot long landing fin/legs and four spaced around the hull at the inner fin/leg attachment points. The foot pads on shock absorbing landing legs retracting up against the bottom of the shock absorbing landing cylinders that protruded slightly below the curved stern reentry shield hull of the ship when in space.

  At the outer side of the compartment, the Captain opened a hatch into a lock and tapped a code into the key board on the outer bulkhead. The hatch had a view port in it allowing the Captain to watch a long ramp that ran up to lay flush against the side of the landing strut, start dropping down. Its end swinging out and down as she watched it drop toward the plasticrete of the pit some 20 feet below. Opening the hatch she stepped out onto the narrow maintinance maintenance gang plank ramp with side rails and started walking out as its end passed half way down and level with the hatch. She quickly walked out and down the increasing angle of the descending plank to step off the end as it touched the pits surface. Striding off toward the fighters and lines of trucks still landing along the edge of the pit without breaking stride.

  Before she was half way down the ramp , it downed on her that the two fighters sitting before her where different sized with only the larger of the two having Star Queen 52 written across the back fuselage. The larger fighter also had a large 5 foot tall number 2 across the side of its twin upright tail’s grav-coil fins reaching up at a slant from the two widely spaced upper engines. She was still trying to comprehend what that meant when 5 more of the big fighters descended to land next to the others. With Star Queen 52 printed on all of them and the numbers 3 through 7 on the tall tail fins. Swallowing, she turned to the Ship’s Exec still following her as she glanced around the pit area and what looked like a good hundred of the Queen’s flight and maintenance boat crewmen scattered around the two ships already sitting in the pit. “Find me the Boat Chief and get the First Officer down here now as well as some marines.” The size of the damn fighters were simply huge. Her mind simply not being able to grasp that the monsters were even there let alone why or that they were torpedo bombers and not fighters. But then most tramps had little to do with military fighters let alone bombers. To the Captain, they all looked alike.

  As Captain Cook drew closer to the two fighters already sitting on the deck, the pilots started climbing down the sides. The Pilot from the small fighter started walking quickly toward the monster bomber. Half way there he took off his helmet and threw it clattering across the plasticrete toward the other pilot ’s feet . “Just how stupid do you have to be to sit firing at a damn enemy hulk for 15 seconds. Twelve 12 seconds after they could no longer harm you and let yourself get killed by a pair of fucking 5inch open sight hull guns? Getting fucking emotional about killing someone only gets your fucking self and your weapons officer killed boy. Not to mention all the people on your ship that were depending on you to protect them for years in the future." Sticking his nose up against the other pilot’s, who Captain Cook realized was the Boy Collins still wearing the strange helmet. “Were you born that stupid or did your mommy drop you on your head to many times. I have seen better flying out of maintenance Sargent’s taxying there damn planes around the base. Hell I wouldn’t let you fly my fucking gig right now if you can’t fly or handle your fucking emotions any better than that. If you want to be a fighter pilot some day you best get your Godstar Damn head out of your ass son or go back to piloting mops and scrubbing decks.”

  Captain Cook smiled at the chewing out Mark was getting. It seemed the English Captain had salved a problem she was suddenly presented with at finding out the ship had more than a hand full of old reserve new fighters along with the single junk fighter still sitting in boat lock 3, some 700 feet up the side of the ship. It was one thing making the boot ensign ( Ex civilian, ex-engine room commander) the fighter Chief of a single junked out fighter or even a small section that was going to take years of training, just to get him out of commanding one of the Ships Engine rooms. And quite another having him in command of an entire wing of fighters and bombers ready to kill .

  Besides she needed him back in engine room 4 to fix the problems that had cropped up in the upgrade kit installation that had left the damn number 4 engine un-operational after he was kicked out of the Engine-spaces the day before. The Chief and engine room crews had been working on the problem all night and they still could not get the damn engine’s strange looking cone shaped fusion chamber to even light off let alone power the engine. The Damn Chief had changed something while doing the upgrade on engine number 4 that had not been done by Commander Collins to engine number 3 . An engine Collins he had successfully upgraded and ran at over 200% thrust the night before that.

  Now regretting forcing him out of the engine rooms simply because he was only a damn civilian a week before, before he had completed upgrading all the damn engines. Now smiling with some relief . She would use the English Captains support to kick him out of commanding the fighters she suddenly found herself with and put him back as a Lieutenant JG in the Engine room to finish upgrading the rest of the ships engines under the close supervision of the Chief to make sure he didn’t fuck up .

  Mark now a temp Commander had been a civilian only a couple week s before (until she forced him to become an officer to keep an eye on and to fulfill a promise to a long dead Captain 21 years before and had forgotten about
), would technically be in command of nothing, while making sure the ship got the engines she needed to keep the ship from going bankrupt. Smiling as she walked up to the group of Star Queen pilots listening to the ex-commander Collins (now he was no longer in charge of engine room 3) getting chewed out by the Captain. Another flight of the big fighters/ bombers with tail numbers 8 threw 10 flew over her head as bombers 3 through 7 settled down onto the plasticrete continuing the line of bombers around the pit against the steeply slopped blast deflection berm surrounding the landing/launch pit to deflect any stray gasses up and away from the surrounding ships.

  A new flight suddenly got her attention as she realized that the much smaller craft taking off from the next landing fin over, were the fighters that Captain Summers had given them the night before. They had been on the concrete with the tips of their wing/cooling/gravcoils fins angled down until they almost touched the deck with short struts on ski’s hanging down serving as landing legs. As the Tri-winged fighters retracted their struts and started climbing, the new much bigger bomber’s gravcoils/cooling/fin wings that were almost 20 feet long suddenly bent upward some 5 feet from the fuselage , turning up into gull wings with the tip s ends pointing up at about 30 degrees for landing. Defense turrets could be seen on the top behind the cockpit and at the stern below and between the engines of the fuselage with what looked like 4, 50cal machine guns in each turret .

  Now the Captain could see their undersides, she realized that they were Torpedo bombers able to carry massive amounts of torpedoes, bombs and missiles inside their bomb bays hidden from long range sensors. Again they had Star Queen 52 on their sides that she still could not believe let alone comprehend. Then after settling down on the tarmac continuing the line ringing the pit ring , they folded their wings on up until the wings of each bomber were pointing straight up. Unlike the bomber that Mr. Collins had climbed out of with its wings spread wide with their tips still only feet above the deck.