SIEGE (TRAMPS Book 1) Read online

  TRAMPS

  By

  Ray Blackwell

  TRAMPS

  Mitchell

  How many would this make, Mitchell wondered for a second. Stealing private shuttles was one thing but stealing your mother’s Merkley Quad XTG with real leather interior, mind impulse stereo, 3 dimensional hologram radar and cooling/heating cup holders, well that was quite another.

  Sure she would be livid but if she found out it was her own son, it would be devastating for them both. Mitchell knew her coverage was paid in full and his boss made a specific request just for this very same model. Maybe the trim wasn’t specific as this one was sleek smooth metallic gray with gold piping, but beautiful and elegant none-the less.

  It sat motionless like a clueless baby fawn patiently waiting for it’s mother to return. But instead of being lovely and gently flown away he had full intentions of entering the security code, seating himself comfortably and blasting the mind stereo at full capacity while accelerating at 3.2 Gs’.

  Mitchell scampered half hazardously across the hanger floor, as a large freighter accepted the last of it’s cargo. Once the freighter was cleared to exit, Mitchell fully intended to be flying right next to it as it exited the bay. He smiled, permission to depart was such a bothersome protocol.

  He reached the far side of the hanger and circled his mother’s pristine shuttle, his hand feeling the smooth cool metal. He entered a 5 digit code into the lock and nothing happened. Immediately he broke into a sweat. ‘Why would mom change the combination’, he wondered. It donned on him that his step-dad had no trust in him. And rightly so. “That bastard”, he murmured. He cycled the possible combinations through his head. He had only 2 more chances then the security lock would be inoperative until the security company was called for owner verification. He had no idea what his step dads personal ID, birthday or other other important numbers could possibly be so out of frustration he punched in 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Red Light. “Damn, fecal, son of a bitch!!” Then a flash of hope crossed his mind. His step dad had a beloved basset hound named Fluke. What a stupid name; anyway Mitchell punched in the appropriate numbers for Fluke, 3, 5, 8, 5, 3. The green light flickered it’s pleasant color next to the security pad and chimed, as if saying ‘Come on in and take me for a ride’.

  He quickly jumped in as the cargo doors on the freighter were being sealed. He flipped on the power switch and waited before engaging the powerful quad capacitor drives. He noticed the batteries for hyper-drive were only half charged but no matter. He was only running to the asteroid belt to deliver the shuttle. Hampy, his boss of a secretive chop shop, used a rescue service as his cover so it was not uncommon for any type vessel to arrive. Even the Republic Security cruisers often frequented Hampy’s unscrupulous establishment and brought him info on wrecked or damaged vessels to obtain.

  Unbeknownst to Mitchell, the sector’s High Marshall was observing upgrades to an Alliance cruiser from the observation deck when Mitch engaged the engines. The freighter leisurely rose and drifted toward the open bay door.

  “Sir, we have an unscheduled craft exiting with the freighter. He’s not responding to our hails’.”

  “That little bastard”, the Terran Republic High Marshall said out loud to himself.

  Mitch shoved the acceleration throttle bar to full and sank back in the overstuffed chairs. Within several minutes he backed off the throttle and relaxed. He ran his fingers through his sandy blond hair and felt the dampness from perspiration. A hot shower would do wonders but until he reached Sol’s asteroid belt to mask his signature he could never fully relax. Several ‘blips’ were evident on the 3d hologram radar but none of them seemed threatening or on an interception course. He wished he could monitor all frequencies but security force frequencies were not allowed on civilian shuttles. Mitchell slightly changed direction in the event authorities plotted his course. After several hours traffic diminished greatly. Heading straight for Hampy’s would be a major mistake. After entering the asteroid belt, Mitch would navigate the rocky obstacles, though there would be very few and sparsely populated. The hyper batteries were fully charged so a short burst would put him at the edge of the belt. Not being the best navigator Mitch set a position and let the navigation computer compute the required ‘burn’. 6.225 minutes was the return answer and although he could have entered the duration himself he opted to activate the automation sequence.There was no whoosh or engine screaming. Only a simple uninspired hum as the immediate time/space around the small vessel squeezed itself making the trip much shorter. After 6 plus minutes the humming ceased and the tiny ship entered normal space. Crossing the wide band civilian frequency and in a clear and serious voice, the shuttle’s intercom came to life.

  “Civilian shuttle, shut down your engines and standby !”

  In typical fashion, 4 cruisers poised for intercept were positioned equally and ready for intercept.

  One at Mitchell’s 2 o’clock, one at 10 o’clock and the other 2 at twelve high and twelve low.

  “Oh shit”! Mitch slammed the hyperdrive button again without navigating a destination point. The batteries at 72% were sufficiently charged, and simultaneously the cruiser to his right flashed a brilliant white light in his direction. A 15 kilometer jump put him directly between all four cruisers as his power gauge dropped to zero. Communications went dead, no lighting, no heat, no thrust and no hope. He watched as they closed in and mag cables latched on.

  “Oh Mitch”, he said to himself, “You’re not walking away from this one.”

  #####

  Rand and Terri

  Near star M5357 In the Leonis sector a small planetoid housed a massive ore plant. It was unique from others as it used large circular do-nut shaped smelters that, once filled, were sent on an extreme parabolic course that utilized the star to smelt the precious metals. When it returned the metals would be collected from the square collectors from the outer rim. Then easily separated with massive industrial lasers.

  A large man with more than his share of gray around the sides owned and operated the installation known as Bella’s Port. His name was Cephalon (Cephas) McGee. While he was bald on top few knew it as he constantly wore a cap; even in a space suit he simply turned it around backwards. Cephas smiled plenty and had an extremely jolly attitude, even though he was a major contributor to the energy weapons supplied to the Free Worlds Coalition.

  His command post was more of a disheveled shipping office. Papers and odd metal objects scattered across his desk, coffee cups that were in dire need of washing and the occasional scraps of food that his pet chow would eventually find lying on the greasy floor. . In the midst of primer colored freighters moving in and out, it was easy to spot an old friends private transport. It was boxier than most but had a sporty look. While not designed as a tanker or freighter for ore loads, it had plenty of room for 2000 pounds of High capacity laser rifles or equivalent ‘tools’. The pilot, Rand Welsch was equivalent in age only to Cephas but that’s where similarities stopped. Rand only stood 5feet, 7 inches. His frame was not large but he could have lost a few pounds. His previous years in the Republic Security taught him how to avoid Republic patrols. Occasionally he would intentionally haul ‘legal’ or permissible items into Republic space just to be searched and cleared so future searches would not be so in-depth. Running as privateer had it’s advantages as he could travel freely to Republic and Coalition systems, the negative side being everyone was suspicious of freelancers And rightly so. Most freelancers were not above taking a cut of auspicious activities.

  If Rand were asked why he left Republic Security he would answer; ‘Too many bosses’, but that barely masked the real reason. He saw how war-time pushed the limits of personnel, and decisions lost wisdom for power.
All too common and never a good trade. Never-the-less, he resigned his commission and left the past where it belonged.

  Rand exited his shuttle , as popping and crackling sounded from the cooling engines. Cephas came out grinning as usual, as he greeted Rand halfway across the hanger floor.

  “Rand, my ol’ boy, howare things’ coreward?” Cephas, occasionally ran his words together if not instructing employees on procedures.

  “Not good. Both sides are making more scrap metal and blood stains than territory. But hey, it’s good for turnin’ a credit or two.”

  “Well come on in the office and rest yourself, cockpits gotta be cramped. I’ll have the little woman fix some eats.”

  Now Cephas does have a wife but she is by no means little. She is a large woman bordering on obese, but as cheerful as her husband with a smile that can lighten up a gallery and her cooking was superb even with artificial ingredients.

  “Now that would hit the spot. Canned rations have my stomach churnin.”

  “Are you staying awhile?” Cephas asked as he waved his hand over the door scanner.

  Both men stepped through, then it groaned shut.

  “Just tonight. I got a message from some Col. Talbert on Primus Alley needing three dozen rifles and extra battery clips. Can you make ‘em?”

  “Sure boy, already in the lockers but Primus is hot last I heard.”

  “It is but I figure they’re too busy with each other to worry about me.”

  “Well, keep your head down. ‘Hehehe’ and your ass.”

  Cephas pulled a bottle of scotch from a desk drawer. He looked for clean glasses. With none to be found he looked dismayed at Rand. “Paper?”

  “Sure.”

  Cephas grabbed two paper cups from the water dispenser and poured a couple shots in each.

  Rand sipped his but Cephas just tipped up the cup and then made the usual ‘ahhhh’ sound of ‘that hit the spot.’

  Just then Robin, Cephas’s wife came in. Rand shirked when she saw him.

  “Rand !!”

  “Oh no” he replied as she gave him a smothering bear hug.

  “Oh you look so handsome, haha.”

  Cephas just leaned back and smiled. Robin loved Rand. Cephas and Robin never had children but even though they were similar in age Robin would have adopted Rand in a heartbeat had he been a generation younger.

  Cephas interjected, “Pussycat, you’re gonna smother the poor boy. Let him breath haaa.”

  “Oh.’ she dismissed him, “I aint hurtin’ ‘em none”, but she released Rand from her loving death grip.

  Cephas stood and straightened the straps on his coveralls, “Why don’t ya make the boy a place tonight and tend to a meal; I’m gonna show him around a bit”. In reality Cephas was only showing Rand the weapons cache and support equipment.

  “Sure Papabear, I’ll get right to it”. Robin knew all too well what Cephas did on the side, but he was cautious with selling weapons to the coalition as not to anger opposition and Rand was one of his best runners. Robin herself was a proud woman and a fierce independent.

  Robin left and Cephas replaced his cheerful pose with his serious work demeanor.

  “Now”, he raised one eyebrow, “Let’s get you set up.” Rand winced as he choked down the last of the rotgut and placed the paper cup on one of the few clear spots on Cephas’s desk.

  Both men walked purposefully across the hangar floor and entered double doors to the far side. The corridor stretched for 50 meters with a multitude of large sliding doors on each side. Large yellow numbers were painted on each and time and wear had chipped and eroded the paint but still readable.

  They reached door 8 and Cephalon unscrewed the latch 1/2 turn then yanked the handle, exposing shelves of laser rifles, pistols, sonic and flash grenades, various mines and clay-mores, pressure sensors and tripwires; just about everything for a small war except common sense.

  “Ahhh, the fortunes of war” Rand said aloud.

  “We’d be better off broke Laddie,” Cephas added, “But not until everyone’s free I suppose”.

  “We just finished up the frames to the Mariner rifles last week”

  “You’re punctual, that’s for damn sure,” Rand said.

  “I’ll have a couple boys load your ship tonight and you’ll be ready to jump after breakfast’.

  “Sounds good Cephas”

  ***

  At the edge of the Beta Leonis star system, the coalition fortress ‘God’s Hand’ prepares for an assault on Primus. Their aim, to reinforce the defending coalition forces already in place and quickly diminishing in ranks. The Republic has the mega city of Kanten pinned down. Kanten, a beautiful silver and white city sets amid a large valley of green surrounded on three sides by majestic blue gray mountains that feed the cities power by water reservoirs built into the massive bluffs under kilometer high water falls. At the end of the valley Republic forces established a stronghold. And incrementally move their forces inward on each successive strike.

  Captain Terri Hades of the Free Worlds Coalition Marines detachment came to a rigid attention before Col. Talbert. She saluted and held it. Talbert returned the salute nonchalantly.

  “At ease Captain”.

  “You understand the situation at Primus is dire.The Republic is holding the city of Kanten hostage by refusing aid or supplies through the valley. Their Banshees’ are routinely patrolling the surrounding mountains so a drop is nearly impossible.”

  “Sir, yes sir,” Terri acknowledged.

  “To make matters worse their newest cruisers are mounted with EMP cannons. We can’t get close without losing power and dropping from the skies,” Colonel Talbert took a breath and leaned back. “We’re going to attempt something we haven’t done in years”

  He continued, “Remember the story of ‘Tannekin Raid’”?

  “Yes sir, it was a massive glider assault....but.. We don’t have box gliders anymore”

  Colonel Talbert pointed out the window of his office, “That freighter is the ‘Achilles heel’, on board are nine newly acquired Ranger shuttles. We purchased without engines and powerplants.

  Just enough batteries to run hydraulics, at least until they get zapped.”

  “I see, gonna be risky sir.”

  “No doubt. This is a voluntary mission.”

  “Are you up for it?’

  “Sir, yes sir!”

  “Good girl, your troops are given the same option and we have volunteer recruits that don’t know any better, for those that opt out, but you have 12 hours to make this happen.”

  Col. Talbert continued,“Now, due to weight restrictions we have civilian ships from all over that will descend at the same time. They are bringing in food, weapons and supplies. We believe it would be too obvious if the Alliance starts shooting civi’s’ out of the sky and maybe if enough re-enter the atmosphere it will over-run Alliance targeting options. In any case. It’s gonna get ugly.”

  “Sir, may I speak openly?”

  “Shoot soldier.”.

  “Sir, it’s ugly now.”

  ***

  The following morning, Randall walked around his ship with a hot cup of coffee doing a light preflight. Cephas and Robin both joined him. Cephas originally owned the small freighter and sold it to Rand after Rand had worked in Cephas’s plant for a couple years.

  “Laddie, I didn’t mean to be imposing but if somethin’ goes wrong I put a transmitter on your ship last night. Hate to see those guns gettin’ in the wrong hands’.”

  “No, Cephas. That’s ok; I understand. But it does give me a reason to be a little nervous.”

  “It’s low yield so as not to scream, here I am” Cephas emphasized.

  “I gotcha, still I hope it isn’t necessary.”

  Robin held out a box and Rand sat down his cup and accepted it. “What’s this?” He smiled.

  “Just some of the leftovers, and some cookies.”

  “Well, I wont be starving on this trip. Thanks Robin.”

&nb
sp; Cephas interjected, “We wont hold you up no more, you can transfer credits to my account once your clear. No hurries you understand.”

  “Your a good man Cephas.” Rand took Cephas’s hand and shook firmly then gave Robin a peck on the cheek.

  “God speed Laddie”

  “Godspeed” Robin echoed.

  Rand pulled the shuttle hatch open as the robust couple stepped back.

  Rand sat the box in the doorway and grabbed his cup. “Can’t forget this!”

  He situated himself into the cockpit, looked around to clear his surroundings and engaged the generators.

  The familiar whine increased in pitch and velocity as the coils began their familiar green glow around the engine couplings.

  Rand grinned slightly. It felt as good to start a new trip as it did to finish one.

  *****

  The ‘Achilles Heel’ positioned itself at the north pole of Primus with a dozen or so coalition fighters as escort. Civilian freighters surrounded the massive freighter and kept a close eye on the behemoth as radio silence was vital. Once the freighter was under way everyone would automatically follow suit.

  Rand had dropped from hyper-drive and as he neared the coalition fleet he had underestimated the magnitude of the operation. He eased his small ship next to another civilian transport of similar configuration and wondered what their cargo was. A large beacon from under the belly of the massive transport flashed a morse-code for those that could still remember the meaning, then the giant ship began it’s drift toward the planets equator.

  A slow and gradual acceleration continued for the fleet. Everyone keeping pace. An estimated 70 ships began dropping altitude as the freighters belly opened wide and 9 rectangular boxes floated down from underneath. Each unfolded giant wings that spread out thrice as wide as the individual lengths. Then twin tail fins unfolded from the sides swinging upwards to form a V-tail. All nine of the Ranger shuttles formed a V pattern and nosed downward. The ‘Achilles Heel’ broke off and turned toward ‘God’s Hand’ then disappeared from view to the rear and upper right of the descending fleet.