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Trampship Wars 2 Page 8


  But for now , he had work to do getting an engine up and running.

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  The Bosom’s arm was getting tired as he polished the main control panel for Engine Number 3. Deciding it was time to take a break, he dropped the rag and bottle can of polish and headed for the chair rubbing his shoulder. He was not young anymore and it had been years since the First Class Bosom had spent any time polishing anything. He had been the one telling others to polish for too many years. At least it was better than scrubbing the bilges.

  Shaking his head , he kicked himself again for letting some stupid Admiral Hologram talk him into volunteering to work for the damn Black Gang. “Keep an eye on Commander Collins, he needs your help.” He had been told. But the 3 Engine room Commanders were number one ass holes after the new Commander of engine room 3#, Johnson , picked a new clerk from engine room personnel leaving him in limbo to jump to all 4 engine room Commanders orders which was turning out to be hell most of the time.

  Though thanks to Lt. Commander Johnson , he was able to spend most of his time polishing the brass. Especially after engine number 4’s upgrade overhaul, refused to run. The damn snipes blamed him even though he was not the one that had his head up his ass. He had even warned the Chief against making the core injector nozzle changes without Commander Collins approval and got himself kicked out of Main Propulsion room 4 during the upgrade. Why the Chief could not understand how the new fusion core worked was beyond him since he had no problem. Once Commander Collins explained it, it was simple physics. The First Class Bosom smiled. He would have to argue with offi cers more often. It got him out of cleaning engine room 4’s bilges and jumping at every dickhead engineman ’s demands no matter his rank.

  He had put in for a transfer but the Chief had refused to sign, saying he had always thought Bosoms were better at cleaning bilges and shitters, leaving his crews to do the important work.

  The hatch suddenly started to open from main control and the Bosom jumped back to his polishing job.

  Commander Collins walked in looking up at Engine number 3 with a frown for a few seconds minutes before he it turned to a smile d with relief . “Thank Godstar they haven’t touched it.” A few seconds later the Commander glanced at the Bosom and said. “Godstar, I was afraid that they had fucked up this engine to. How you doing Bosom?”

  The Bosom smiled. “Fine sir. I will have this control panel shining in a few more hours. It doesn’t look like it has seen a polish ra n g in a decade or 10.”

  An engineman A 3 rd class (one step up from a recruit) stuck his head through the hatch from the control room and shouted. “Bosom Dog. There is a bunch of crap that is falling into the bilges of MP-4. You need to get your butt over there now and get your tongue busy cleaning it up after you unclog the head there. Damn big mess with turds all over the deck .”

  The Bosom threw his rag down and started to throw the can at the snipe . “You tell that…” Stopping with the can still in his hand shaking his head the bosom growled. “I will be right there.”

  “Hold up there Bosom.” Mark did not need to ask to know what was going on there. Though Mickey quickly filled him in on the crew assignment changes since he had left.

  “I need a good Clerk with your abilities for my fighter bomber squadron. You interested?” The Bosom had done a great job helping him organize and doc ument rebuilding engine 3#. Going out of his way to keep things going smoothly.

  The bosom’s eyes got big as he smiled. “Damn right sir.” Then shaking his head. But the Chief refused to sign my transfer papers out of here.”

  Chuckling Mark smiled. “That is ok Bosom, you just go ahead and head up to the boat lock now. I will take care of getting your transfer signed. I am supposed to have an office someplace up there. I have 9 bombers with all the maintenance equipment and weapons stores and a ton of paper work that needs your touch . Get started on it now.” Mark suddenly wondered why it was called paper work when the only paper he ever saw aboard ship was the roll in the toilet.

  “Damn thanks sir. Aaa I put all your things in a locker on the 5th wing level portside. It will take me a few minutes to get it all together and moved…. A where do you want me to move it all to?”

  Mark shook his head. “To my office when you find it but don’t worry about it right now. I am sure it is safe where you have it for now or it wouldn’t still be there. Get your butt up ship, find me my office and get to work with the new pilots the English are is interviewing down in the pit for now . If you need help or anything else, get it using my name, but I need everything in the squadron recorded and signed for as ours before we launch. We are also going to have a lot of personnel transferring in that need entered into the squadron. Oh and while the English are running qualification tests for pilots and weapons officers, you need to get records of all the tests for future references. Even the ones that don’t make the cut now. We may need them later.”

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  Mark walked into the Junior Officers’ mess. It was a crowded bedlam since it was now serving a whole deck of officer cabins. Most of the two and single bedroom cabins that had been part of the original Officers Country way up on the bow decks, were now taken by families that had been in the cramped single bunk closit closet cabins just big enough for one person, let alone a couple with a child or two in the new birthing decks between the cargo holds . The single officers that once lived in luxury with extra bedrooms used for weight or game rooms in their cabins, complete with showers and even a few saunas, now inhabited the single person dorm cabins with a bunk, a small private head and communal showers that the majority of the single crewmen had lived in for years. The dozens of dorms on each of the tween decks between the holds now housed almost half the crew. All singles or cozy couples without kids. Though that was going to change yet again in another six months as new babies joined the crew. But at least the cabins would only have newborns and not children. At least for a while.

  A Lieutenant walked up to Mark’s table as he sat down with his cheeseburger and fries. “I heard you are the one responsible for getting us kicked out of our cabin sweats on the upper decks and moved to this hell hole. Is that true dickhead?”

  Mark looked up taking a bite of his cheeseburger and chewed as the red faced lieutenant stared at him, gun getting more upset by the second. Starving after missing breakfast when he was pulled down into the pit with the arrival of the fighter and bomber , as he waited in line to fill his plate in the crowded Officers mess that morning. His growling stomach and hunger pains coloring his mood the whole morning . F f rom despair at the possibility of losing his fighter and then getting really pissed off when he found out just how fucked up the engine was. Not to mention all the shit things the officers kept saying about him even when they knew he was listening. Now he just wanted to be left alone to eat the best food he had tasted in a long time with the burger patty hot and juicy with all the trimmings from bacon, chees, bread and butter pickle slices, plenty of wiped whipped dressing and catchup, with the fry’s burning hot and perfectly crisp.

  Mark had quickly gotten tired of cold food having to be brought down from the main mess deck galley at the other end of the ship. And after the new engine worked so well, he had used his new rapport with the auxiliary maintenance and hull tech crews to cut hatch es into the voids that stretched across the center of the tween deck to make room for an actual galley with its own reefers and freezers in the many small pie shaped voids . It was a complicated maze but t he crews had turned the many voids into a damn nice galley in only a couple of days . And now he wanted to enjoy his first good hot meal from the new galley.

  But the officer that had a reputation for being an ass hole was not going to allow that.

  Brushing off his col o r collar to make sure his Lieutenant Commanders pips it w ere as not dirty and in plain sight while swallowing. Mark took a deep breath after swallowing. “For one, Lieutenant scum bag. I am a Lt. Commander.” Taking a drin
k as the Lieutenant’s face turned white suddenly as he spotted the oak leaves on Marks collar since Mark pointed them out.

  “I thought you were demoted back to Lieutenant JG.” The Lieutenant almost squeaked a couple of times as he spoke barely loud enough to hear after finally spotting the oak leaves j ust before Mark had started talking .

  Mark grabbed a hand full of hot fries, dunked them in the sauce and then into his mouth , wincing as they burned h is tongue as he stood up . S s ince all the nearby tables were full of officers staring at him anyway, he just figured he might as well as get it over with at once. Swallowing a the mouth full of soda to wash down the fries to stop the burning, Mark as he finished gazing around the not quite silent compartment. “Your attention please.” Mark bellowed from his gut without thinking, getting the attention of the whole crowded compartment as the last few stopped what they were doing. “I am the Queens Fighter Bomber squadron Commander, Lt. Commander Collins. That is not temp Lt. Commander either.” Looking around to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “I am the scum bag that is responsible for all of us being down here in these dorms so families with babies and kids could move out of these same cramped fucking dorms to have your luxury cabins. Which are not that luxurious when you have a couple of kids. If anyone does not like their new roomy birthing arrangements, I am sure I can help find you nice accommodations in the pigs’ pits on the f arm ood deck s . The next person that complains to me about these fine cabins will find out how the pigs live.” The ship started shaking as the Engineering Chief insisted on running another engine test on number 4 engine. Still not believing that what Mark and Lt. Commander Johnson had done to the Engine that had refused to run all night, actually worked.

  Looking around at the faces starting to panic as the chief ran it up well pasts quarter thrust were Mark had kept it down to a half hour earlier just to prove to the Chief and Captain Cook standing in the Engineering Control room at the time, that it was running. Mark was , confident that it would run at the higher thrust levels . and n While the pit had been cleared of all personnel for the test , he did not ot wan t ting to scare or hurt anyone walking or working around the ship or damage any of the equipment lined up around the pit from back blast out of the exhaust tunnels.

  Evidentially t T he Chief was not as convinced as Mark was and , was now running it up to a higher thrust level just to make sure. Even higher than w hat his standing orders have been for as long as Mark could remember. Mark just hoped he did not take it up to damn much or the crews outside the ship could be hurt or even killed as vast volumes of air the plasma stream was suck ing ed down the exhaust tunnel hole under the ship would start taking equipment with it. Not to mention the damage or from the sound waves coming off the plasma shooting from the engines at a percentage of the speed of light and down through the exhaust tunnel. The larger the thrust stream the louder and more concussive it would get as the column grew , presenting more square footage to contact the air around it.

  Unlike the exhaust of old Chemical rockets that relied upon expanding gasses to create thrust and resulted in explosive sound waves that could kill anything within miles of the bigger engines, the plasma engine exhaust formed a none expanding column if tuned right and only the air that contacted the ultra-high velocity, extreme temperature, plasma column created noise as of the air that touched the column rapidly expanded from the heat , exploding out while being was dragged along while the air that touched the column rapidly expanded from the heat creating a loud rushing roar. While not creating an explosive shock wave the rushing roar could still heart ears if the super-heated column was big enough. It was also not uncommon for the stream of a ship during take off to suck something down the tube besides air and the explosion when that something hit the stream would blast its way back out if it had not penetrated very far down the exhaust tube yet.

  But at the moment , all Mark could feel was the shaking of the deck while the hatch to the cargo compartments above the deck (being closed) prevented the din of the exhaust from penetrating through the hold into the compartment. Several pale faced Officers not knowing what was going on even though the announcement was made that an engine was being tested, headed for the hatch abandoning their food. Mark had to admit that the old engines rarely shook the ship this bad unless one of them were at full thrust which he could only r emember happening once .

  “Godstar People! Get some balls. It is only number 4 engine being tested. Finish your meal or at least take your tray to the scullery. And while I have your attention. Anyone that has a thousand hours of Game Sim time on fighters or bombers and that wish to join the attack torpedo bomber squadron, get your butts down to the pit and take the test. The English and I will pick 2 4 0 or 3 5 0 pilots to start training at the end of the day. Oh and if you make the grade, don’t expect much sleep over the next few weeks days . From what I have heard, their training is worse than boot camp since they don’t have much time before we lift.” Smiling as half the mess deck headed for the exits to each side of the ex- equipment and tool storage room for the hull hatch in the cargo hold above, and into the passageways that ran around the deck just inside the outer hull. “That is all.” Mark said to an already half empty compartment. Smiling as he knew that they would not even be allowed into the pit until the Chief was done playing with his new engine.

  The bad thing about the placement of the new officers mess was that it was about as far away from the main ship’s elevator as you could get on the deck. Though the chain and ladder compartments were right next door, each next to one of the exits straddling the cargo hold hatch e ’s machinery room. Which was one reason the food from the main mess galley was always cold before the new galley was constructed . The ir real only problem s w as ere that th e chain ey only ran from the main ships mess deck some 20 decks shy of the bow , to the bottom personnel vacuum suit locks and Quarter deck just below the Truck and Engine room deck up to the main ships mess deck some 20 decks shy of the bow . The junior o fficers could not leave the new tween deck mess deck and jump on the chain to ride it up to the wardroom deck in Officers Country . They had to transfer on the ships main mess deck.

  Shaking his head Mark suddenly wondered how many would slid down the ladder rails in their rush since it was only 20 some decks down to the Quarter deck from there.

  Frowning, Mark had lost his best friend when he had killed himself trying to slide from the mess deck down to the Quarter deck to join Mark and the club of those that had successfully made the slide and now Mark regretted making the announcement. Twenty decks was a long way from the 70 starting from the mess decks but it was still plenty enough to get someone killed. Mark sat back down taking a bite of his cheeseburger but he suddenly realized that he wasn’t that hungry anymore as he worried about someone being stupid enough to try. Possibly thinking that if they got ahead of the crowd they would have an advantage in the selection process. Now regretting not telling them to relax until the engine tests were done.

  Ensign Banacheck sat down at Marks suddenly empty table with a big smile on his face. “You know how to empty out the mess deck don’t you. Thanks, I have spent the last 2 1 0 minutes getting bumped back to the end of the line including by you . Everyone is in a hurry now that we have hot food for lunch. Hell hot food period.” Banacheck smiled at Mark as he took a big bight of hot fries and started talking around it. “ You want to tell me how you went from Rooky Ensign to Commander in only a week? I am sick and tired of being the only Probee around here again.”

  “You’re not mad at me anymore Banacheck?”

  “Naw, never mad Rooky. Just scared shitless until they made the new birthing arrangements permanent and even added the whole deck of dorms to become Junior Officer Country South .” Taking a big bite of fry’s. “You saw my crude Sim didn’t you. Too bad it won’t fit in my new dorm room. Does that count as Sim time for the fighters? If it does, I have several thousand hours.”

  “Sure. They will throw you in one of the bomber ’ s Cockpits and see what
you know and can do. Though you hit me more as a weapons officer than a pilot. But give it a try. So why aren’t you jumping off the cargo deck hatch with the rest?” Mark shrugged and took another bite of his cheeseburger.

  Banacheck started chuckling as he took a big bight of chewed his cheeseburger with all the trimmings piled high and started talking at the same time again making it hard for Mark to understand him . “I would be the last one to get to try out anyway so why hurry. Besides it is nice not having to wait a nother half hour to get to eat.” Banacheck sat back and closed his eyes. “Damn this is good.”

  Mark swallowed his last bite of burger, took a drink and grabbed some more fries as he got up. “Well rooky, get your butt up and follow me.” Mark headed for the hatch.

  Banacheck gazed after Mark for a few seconds in shock, then started cramming food into his mouth as he got up with his tray in one hand as he shoveled food in with the other as he and followed.

  Mark stopped long enough to peek into the ladder compartment to see that there was no emergency lights flashing with the hatches electronically closed to prevent anyone from using the ladders. Which meant that no one had killed themselves in the rush after all. Then went on around to the elevator on the other side of the ship some 140 yards around the hull passageway past a dozen dorms exactly like the one he lived in. The elevator took them directly to the new Tramp Town elevator stop that had just been put in. Exiting the elevator Mark was glad to see that the hull technicians were in the middle of putting in a hatch where the hole had been cut into the deck above, that was the original main access to what Mark had accidentally created (while trying to save his Clubhouse/work shop from the junk pile).