Captain Scarlett vs. the Scrapper - Cover

Captain Scarlett vs. the Scrapper

Copyright© 2024 by Duleigh

Chapter 21

On the SS Peake, the tiny bridge was packed. The moment that Winston said that over the air, the entire crew of the SS Peake and all Berserker personnel broke up laughing. They were listening in the briefing room and the laughter made that office sound like a comedy club. “There it is sir, you called it! Ten minutes after you shut down remote access on the fighters he’s on the air freaking out.”

“Shit,” groaned Eris, and she handed her grinning brother-in-law a twenty-dollar bill.

“Thank you ma’am” said Alan. Then he grew serious. “Ok, gang, we are now on radio silence except for encrypted ship to ship conversations in the fighters, and data dumps to Berserker Momma,” said Alan Scarlett. “Until we get this guy in chains, we are off the air.”

On the NSS Naha, the radio operator said, “Ma’am, you need to hear this.”

“Put it on overhead,” said Pandora.

By this point, Winston Scarver stopped pleading. “ ... and when I find you I am going to cave in your head, rip it off your neck and skull fuck you! You son of a bitch! I’m coming for you!”

“Oh god, what did my husband do now?” groaned Pandora in a combination of anger and pride.

Winston was unstoppable. “I will find you! I will kill you! You are going to rue the day that you fucked with the Scrapper!”

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NSS Naha, August 19, 2161 Martian Orbit

Two F-733 Predator fighter/Interceptors eased up to the NSS Naha and sent a quick electronic signal instead of a voice message. The doors of the cavernous aft bomb bay opened, and the fighters slowly eased their way inside the bomb bay. A half dozen maintenance personnel helped guide the fighters into the bomb bay, then rolled them upside down and locked them in place. There were already two fighters in the bomb bay, ready for action. Since the biggest, baddest bomber in the Western Alliance fleet wasn’t being used as a bomber, it was now, like the SS Peake and the SS Garriott, an undercover carrier. There were now four Predators in the aft bomb bay, and two in the forward bomb bay, and four mounted in the aft bomb bay of the NSS Krakow.

“A marine assault vessel,” said Alan as he entered the maintenance bay. In the maintenance bay were all the fighter pilots who had recently left the SS Garriott and joined up with Pandora’s bombers. The reunion with his fliers from the SS Garriott involved a lot of back patting and storytelling. The big thing was the disbelief at what they did. “We took a moon!” gasped one young flier that had recently joined Scarlett Water Services.

“We took two moons,” said Alan. “In thirteen months, we’re going to take another one about four kilometers in diameter. We’re going to need every engine you’re using right now, plus whatever we can dig out of Jezero lake.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked a navigator.

“Let me introduce you to Eris Carmine, she’s vice president of Scarlett Water System’s Asset Recovery Division, and she’ll have a foundry of her own on Mars and will be working with rare and precious metals. I was thinking in Bova 12.” Bova 12 was a small circular crater with high walls near Jezero Lake.

Eris smiled and waved nervously at the confused men. Like Alan, they were sure that she was Pandora, with a new hairstyle. Just as she was about to say something, the bulkhead door opened and Hector Tubbs entered, followed by Pandora. “Attention on deck!”

“As you were,” said Pandora and she floated into Alan’s arms. Regulations be damned, she was going to kiss her husband. A quiet cheer went up as their lips met. God, how she needed that kiss. “Thank you for your guns,” said Pandora between kisses.

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