AMP Private War (13 page)

Donnelly shook his head and stepped forward. A supply of grenades was set behind him. Several seconds later the power to the freighter was once again disabled and Donnelly began his barrage.

Booom! Booom! Booom! Booom!

The grenades landed with devastating results. Seven Milgari Marines and a Feran Tiger were killed in the storm of shrapnel that was generated by the grenades. The far end of the hallway was littered was blood and guts from the fallen enemy soldiers.

The Colonel spoke, "OK people, let’s move it! Secure that corner and Donnelly I want you up front there repeating that process. We are pushing them back out of that port!"

The Marines hustled around the corner and ran down the hall screaming at the top of their lungs. When they reached the corner the Milgari were continuing their retreat. Several more grenades again found their mark as the last of the Milgari again disappeared around the far corner.

Again the Tigers were cut loose, but his time the Marines were ready. A barrage of grenades eliminated the Tigers as they came around a far corner, any that made it through were handled with AK-47s and the occasional bazooka round. The fighting to close the docking port door lasted for more than an hour. Sixteen Feran Tigers and 52 Milgari made up the dead. Our lone casualty, Harris, was resting under sedation in the Slaughter’s hospital bay.

The port doorway was cleared and sealed; the Colonel turned his attention to the freighter’s Bridge. The Bridge doorway had been hardened by those inside. The Colonel spoke, "Get those plasma charges set and let’s get this barge moving!"

Booom!

The door to the Bridge shot backwards, taking out two of the Milgari crewmen who occupied the room. Seconds later the assault of the freighter was over.

With the Bridge secure the Colonel sent out two squads to sweep the remainder of the freighter. His next task was to fly the freighter out to our predetermined rendezvous point.

Pierce spoke, "Sir, we have a problem. The engines will not power up with the docking clamps engaged. And the docking clamps can only be released from that station out there. Unless we can get those clamps to let go… we aren’t going anywhere Sir."

The Colonel banged his heavy fist on the console. "Grange! I need a favor! There are three points on this station that have clamps extending out to this freighter. We cannot disconnect them from here, so we need your team to do it from out there. We need you to blast those clamps so we can fly this barge out of here. Make that happen for us Grange! We are already running over time on this!"

I pressed the comm button to respond, "Will do Colonel! Hammer! Fist! Sword! Hit those clamps as close to that freighter as you can. The Colonel needs his flying papers stamped!"

In less than a minute the giant clamps had been destroyed. The freighter’s engines came online and the behemoth began to move. As we pulled away from the Milgari system I looked back and smiled. We had again absconded with a load of material that was in high demand for the Milgari war effort.

The ride back to Bullwort was a complete celebration, even Harris with his one arm joined in on the party albeit at a much reduced level. He would be fitted with a prosthetic that would give him almost 50% use of what he had previously enjoyed. He would also be given a job for the cause where that 50% usage would be more than adequate for his needs. His time as a member of our fighting force had come to an end.

I had a meeting with the Colonel after we arrived home. "Colonel; I have to often wonder about what I… about what we are doing. Good men are losing their lives; we got lucky this time, but men have lost their lives just the same."

The Colonel looked at me with a stern face. "Son, death is a result that often comes from war. Those men that have passed… they did so with the knowledge that their sacrifices, however big or small, were meant to prevent even further bloodshed down the road. They are warriors Don, it’s what they do and it’s what they know."

"We are fighting this war for everyone out there that the Milgari are looking to subjugate. It’s not just the Grid that is in peril, it is every living and breathing species in this galaxy. And I don’t know about you Mr. Grange, but I feel with these last two raids, we have put a significant dent in their ability to fight their war."

"As I said before, the defense of our species meant everything to your father; I think the same holds true for you. None of us have the grand plan for what it is that we should be doing in this life, but I can tell you this, the decisions you have made and the things you have accomplished over the last couple years do not speak of someone who is bumbling along."

"They speak of a man who has taken on a challenge unto himself, a man who has organized others to follow his lead and a man that has placed his own life on the line as an example for all those who are watching. You ARE doing the right things Don, if you only took long enough to stop and look at what you have done, I believe you might just be able to convince yourself that what you are doing is right!"

I left the meeting with the Colonel on a high. We had accomplished great things, we had stalled the enemy in their tracks and those who had sacrificed their lives had made a difference. The cause was worth fighting for and I had stepped up to take on that fight. The proof was all around me. My former spy co-pilot and engineer was now my partner. The Colonel and a thousand others had chosen to follow my lead; we had ships that we had captured from the enemy, and although our force was still relatively small, we had managed to accomplish what others could not. Our time in the sector had been extended.

We were now in possession of another freighter loaded with Tantric ore, this ore however, had already been refined to a high level. It was immediately ready to sell and we were in need of new customers. I made a special trip to the Grid to check on our new associate, Doris Jenkins.

"Mr. Bumablee! Glad you were able to come. Let me show you what I have lined up. There are 18 major ship builders on the Grid; I now have six who are interested in our Tantric. I have also taken the initiative to contact off-grid builders when I am out mapping the commodity trade as you have specified."

"Another four of those builders are interested as well. I know you had me limited in the amount of refined ore that would be available, but seriously Sir, I think we could move a lot more if we can get our hands on it, even if we are only acting as a reseller."

I looked over the paperwork Doris had arranged, it was good. She was thorough in her questioning and had an aptitude for sales. She was pushy, but not so pushy that she alienated customers. "This is impressive work Miss Jenkins. I like what I am seeing here. We have had a slight increase in our mining capacity over the past few months; I think we can safely up the available numbers by 15%. I know you are asking for more, but that will put us at our limit."

I felt bad about deceiving Doris; we had enough Tantric to flood the available market. But I could not risk drawing undue attention to our operation. A supposed large find would bring politicians who were looking to control the source or prospectors who wanted it for themselves. We wanted to remain at a level that would not draw scrutiny.

While on the Grid I took the time to check on Jeb’s cousin at the shooting range. Business was brisk after introducing people to the sport of target shooting thanks to the free days on the range promotion. Jeb’s cousin was beaming with pride and enthusiasm over what he had been able to accomplish in such a short time.

From the range I took the short walk over to Jasper’s with the hope of seeing Ashley Elizabeth. I sat for an hour nursing drinks at the bar before Michael Felix walked in. He stopped for a moment beside my stool. "Excuse me Sir, but do I know you? Are you here looking for work?"

I remained staring at the bottles on the counter behind the bar; I shook my head from right to left and back. If Michael Felix recognized me I would soon be locked up by the Grid authorities. I dare not speak to him as my voice would be one that he would recognize.

He remained staring at me for several seconds before he proceeded on across the room to talk with his crony in charge of handing out contracts. I could see in the mirror behind the bar that he had a fixation on the unknown gentleman at the bar. Michael Felix did not like to be kept in the dark.

He stopped once more behind me on his way back towards the door. "Excuse me again, I don’t want to appear rude, but do we know each other? My name is Michael Felix. I’m running for the council seat for this area. I’m only curious because if I am going to be an effective councilman I need to know what business is being conducted in my section. Do you have a name Sir?"

I pulled a business card out of my pocket and held it up between two fingers on my left hand, my stare remained forward.

Michael Felix looked at the card. "Mr. Bumbalee. Hmmm. It says you are in mining Mr. Bumbalee. Do you have any need of transport for your goods?"

Again I shook my head in a "no" gesture. He stood, looking at the back of my head for several more seconds before turning to leave the bar.

I paid my tab and headed to the door. I came to the realization that I had been pushing my luck and my luck had almost run out. As I rounded the doorway I was confronted by Ashley Elizabeth. She smiled as I stepped to the side and she then did a double take.

Ashley spoke, "Excuse me, but do I know you?"

I again shook my head "no" and then continued to walk away. She stood, staring at my back as I went. I walked with a limp in an attempt to throw off her gaze.

I returned to the safety of George’s flyer and soon had a flight plan filed for my departure. As my ship was lifting off I saw Michael Felix in the background of the monitor as I spoke with the slip captain. He watched intently as I moved towards Alpha launch deck C. I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until the flyer was safely away from the Grid. I would have to limit my future visits to the office with Doris Jenkins or the shooting range with Jeb’s cousin. The ride back to Bullwort and then on to the Suppressor was long.

The contents of the Milgari freighter had been transferred to our ore hauler. The freighter was then programmed to fly back to the world from which it had been captured and to then crash into the space dock that had once held it in place. It was our way of saying thank you for the Tantric.

George, Gy and Rita had been busily at work constructing our tiny empire. The Suppressor with its ample space was slowly being converted into a station that would support a population of several hundred thousand. We now had 30,000 hired workers that were constantly being flown in for six month contracts.

The workers were brought in without knowledge of where they were going, they were then kept inside one of the massive bays on the Suppressor, and when they left it was once again without knowledge of where they had been. Every measure was taken to protect the whereabouts of our location. The worker pay was fair, so complaints were minimal.

Gy and Rita had also been busy designing a new ship. It would be called a Raider and aside from its twin ion cannons and inhibitor field transmitter, it had cabins and support for 50 Marines for an extended period of time. Its primary purpose would be to attack the Milgari shipping lanes. Tours of duty would last up to a year.

The Raider would have a cockpit that could seat up to four individuals with room for another eight standing behind them. There would be a Pilot, a Copilot / Engineer, a port gunner and a starboard gunner. Room for a fifth console was available if the need should arise.

The Raider would have breaching ports on either side as well as a cargo bay door that was aft. The cargo hold of the Raider would fit an entire Defender, part of her mission would be to capture valuable cargo for return to our base on the Suppressor. When larger cargoes were captured, the ship in question would be programmed to fly to a designated rendezvous point where a crew would be waiting to take control of the ship and its cargo. It was a strategy that would allow our Marines to stay on station for many months.

I was surprised at how many of the Colonel’s men eagerly signed up for the Raider program. They would be going deep into Milgari territory and would be gone for up to a year at a time. But this was a life which they had trained for and a life which many of them had become accustomed to during their years with the Grid military. For them, a year’s deployment was easy.

After a short time on the Suppressor I began to go on business trips with George. He was a tireless worker that always seemed to be one step ahead of the game. He thrived on keeping himself busy and with the war business we had placed ourselves in he was busy all the time.

During our travels we had come across a small business that had been operating for years using the old high magnetic welding gear that the Blevin Defenders had originally been constructed with. The businessman had taken extremely good care of the machines and had even added a few enhancements that had allowed him to continuously turn a small profit. After a short negotiation, George purchased the company and the prior owner’s exclusive services. He would now be constructing the inner frame for the new Raider hulls that Gy and Rita had designed. Their rigidity would surpass that of a Defender.

On another stop we paid a visit to Omrin-7 where George once had his practice. A generous deal was made with the Omrin government for a shipment of Tantric ore which placed the politicians there squarely in George’s pocket. From that sale he made direct contact with the wealthy businessman who had been hunting for him for years. After a long discussion a settlement was reached and George was once again free to move about the galaxy without the threat of a contract hit hanging over his head.

After leaving Omrin I got into a discussion with George. "So, what do you think of our little operation?"

George turned to me and replied, "Little? What we have going on stopped being little when Harper and his men came on-board. With those ships we have we are now more powerful than many of the governments in this sector. Heck, we might even be the most powerful."

"You know, when you came to me with your mining operation I took it as a sign that maybe I could start living life again. I tell you, I have been so busy that it seems like I don’t have enough time to get the things done that I want to get done. It’s like I’m on call all day every day. But I could not be happier about it."

George continued, "I can see sometimes that you get a little overwhelmed by all that is going on. Next time you get that feeling just look around at the people you have working with you. You are not alone in this Don. This private war you are fighting… it belongs to us all."

"If you feel the need to you can lean on me or Harper or Gy or Rita. We are all there to share the load. And with each of us we know we can do the same with you. It’s called being a part of a team Don. And I’ll have to say, it’s a team that has accomplished a lot in an insanely short amount of time."

"Do you realize that by the time we finish with our upgrades to the Suppressor, that we would have the assets at our disposal where we could probably take over any planet in the galaxy? It will be that powerful and the people we have manning it are the best of the best."

"And one more thing, this time last year we had about 25 team members, we are now over a thousand. And I have no doubt that within a year or so that could easily climb to 10,000. Our credit store is exploding and our ability to bring on more top notch people is exploding right along with it."

George then remained silent for several seconds. "I guess what I’m trying to say Don, is that some people happen into positions of power and they learn quickly that they cannot handle the pressure or the pace. Others seem to be born ready for that job. They make snap decisions and those decisions overwhelmingly turn out to be good. Most people have to be trained to be a leader. You are one of the lucky ones where it just comes naturally."

George’s talk was good for a confidence boost. I felt like anything but a natural leader. What I had been blessed with however, were the people whom I had surrounded myself with. Each of them excelled at what they did. That included my good friend and brother in arms Frig. Without his assistance I would have been back on the Grid groveling to Michael Felix for work like the other Messengers.

When we arrived back on the Suppressor Colonel Harper was waiting. "Grange! I want you to see this."

We hopped on an internal shuttle that ran down the spine of the ship and within several minutes we were stopped at the Colonel’s training bay.

"Over here we have our ship simulators. We can simulate a battle in space above just about any world we have traveled to. All the ships in the database are available for combat and I myself have run through a few scenarios with them, they are outstanding! I came out of there with sweat pouring down my face due to the stress the simulation puts you under. It’s that good!"

"Over here, we have our mock Milgari frigate. I have stormed that thing a couple times now and wow! Unbelievable! George managed to get us a load of 3D holo-helmets and I can tell you that charging down a hallway with one of those helmets on is like charging down the real thing. The guys have programmed in the Milgari tactics and reactions that we have so far encountered. I’ve rounded a corner more than once and have almost crapped my pants from being surprised. It’s all very real."

We continued to walk as the Colonel talked. "Now down in this area we have our live fire drills for the conventional weapons. As you can see it’s enclosed. We had a couple episodes of people out here being hit by frag. One lost an eye, so we had it enclosed. The nice thing about it is all the smoke and toxic debris from any explosives used will get filtered out locally. That allows us to walk around out here without worry. It takes too long to filter out this whole bay."

"Now this next one is something that I always wanted, but I never had the budget for. It’s an exterior mockup and inside this red line over here is a gravity free zone. We shielded this area around the mockup which will allow us to practice crawling all over these things just like if we were in space. We could practice outside on the real thing, but our training regimen in here can be much more intense with instructors standing out here. And if our boys screw up while learning they aren’t in need of rescue."

"And over here we have our final quadrant. We brought in terrain from the planet below. Dirt, rocks, water, ice, we threw in a wind generator and a heat source and we can simulate planetary environments. We can even adjust the gravity levels. If we decide on a planet-side raid we have the facility needed to train for it."

"There is one more benefit of having all this. I realize that it cost a lot to construct, but we have to keep in mind that these Marines aren’t ones for sitting still for more than a day or so. They start to go bonkers, which means fights and low morale. This bay can serve to keep them busy as well as trained. And a busy Marine is a happy Marine. Now, have any questions for me?"

I looked around at the bay and all the Colonel and his men had accomplished in such a short time. "No Colonel, I don’t have any questions. You have impressed me with your drive and determination ever since I first met you. All of this… I don’t know if I would expect anything less out of you. I’m sure if I were to provide you with the resources you would be running this whole galaxy in a very short time."

The Colonel slapped his big hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "I’m sure I could conquer this whole galaxy if given the means, but that is where I stop. I can manage the fighting, I can manage keeping the peace, but it takes someone with a lot more skill to manage everything else. That’s where you come in Grange. Don Grange! Supreme leader of the galaxy! Hahahaha!" The Colonel tilted his head down and spit a wad of Omega root on my pant leg.