Jethro: First to Fight (23 page)

“Two things,” Valenko said, holding up
two fingers as Ox checked the cameras. They watched Meyer's squad troop to
their starting point, then pause there to talk on a secure channel. The guys
with the shields moved them about, still getting used to them.

“One, I need to know how to defend
against them. I've got an idea, I want to see. Two, they aren't the enemy,
eventually we'll have to go into combat with these people, I want them to be
prepared and on our side.”

“Ah, gotcha,” she said nodding. “Still
doesn't seem right,” she grumbled, checking her weapon.

“I didn't say I'd play fair,” the bear
said, indicating to the Tauren to get ready with his shield wall. Ox nodded.
Asazi followed his wave and then looked at the Tauren. She barked a laugh.

Silverman came in with the shields in
front, mirroring what the bear had done. He however had a surprise for her. Ox
had monitored her approach with the cameras and had set up his shield wall to
block the passage. They saw the shield's glowing force field blocking the way
in front and swore. The Neo's fought them back despite some of their own twists.
The shields were a major advantage, but they had a disadvantage.

Lieutenant Silverman got cute and tried
to adapt their own tactics. They saw it coming late, she had her point man toss
his shield into the shield wall. The two force emitters interacted, tearing
each other apart. Ox winced at the carnage. The wall went down and she moved
in. Hurranna dropped in from behind them, cutting up her rear guard. She bolted
forward into Asazi and her shield wall. Her men spread out to flank the
heavyworlder but they each ran into a fire team and were cut down or driven
back. Eventually the exercise was called.

...*...*...*...*...

The next day they did it again, this
time with a borrowed Marine assault shuttle. First Valenko's team was the
aggressor.

The Grendel was a bit of a confusing
bird, first because it was a dedicated space assault shuttle, and second
because there was a second shuttle class of a similar name. Whereas the Grendel
Assault Cutter was from the Doscher Space firm, the Grendel Heavy dropship was
from the Mooney aerospace corporation.

The Grendel was perfect for the mission,
she was a bulky thing, with a T in the front. The hammerhead sported drive
nacelles for harsh braking when the ship was coming in for a hard dock. Each
drive nacelle could swivel as needed, and sported small fins that had RCS pods
built into them. The fins were stuffed with fuel bladders and point defense
arrays. The chin fin sported another drive nacelle as well as an RCS pod and
lidar and point defense arrays.

At the center of the T was the universal
docking port. Around it were a cluster of lasers, cameras, and waldo arms to
grab onto whatever the craft was docking too.

Mid-line was a series of craft was a
series of cargo bays. This was where the Grendel shown, each could hold a half
squad of powered combat armor. There were four such bays on either flank of the
craft.

Nestled on top of the craft's rear
between the two upper drive pods was the sensor suite and command deck. That
allowed the crew to survive hard impacts.

The underside stern sported another
sail, this one had fuel and RCS thrusters in strategic locations. A cluster of
point defense lasers were also on the sail. By putting the RCS and point
defense pods in the sail tips it pushed them out away from the hull, allowing
them greater range and flexibility in maneuvering.

The stern of the craft sported four
massive engines, two low on either side, and two on the top. These engines
could move, swiveling a full 360 degrees and pitch up 20 to 30 degrees when
needed. The shuttle was a pain to fly, even with implants and full computer
support, but she was a hardy craft, able to get in and do the job when needed.

There was one Grendel in the navy's
inventory, and one Grendel. Both craft were over a thousand years old and still
flying.

From the start it was obvious Silverman
had driven her people hard to think of a counter to the shields. She hadn't
twigged on Jethro's flight pack however. He used it to ride in. and then
dropped to hit the enemy from behind. The exercise lasted for three hours
before Valenko won. By the end though only Jethro was graded as uninjured
though.

The second sim Jethro positioned a trio
out on the hull to help repel boarders. He even used his flight pack to ambush
the shuttle. He flew out to the shuttle and attacked the shuttle as it docked,
slapping breaching charge on it. The exercise was graded as terminated in
seconds. They broke for lunch and to go to the Annex.

The last scenario had them up against a
full platoon in virtual reality. The scenario was a hot drop in a forest. They
managed to handle it but it was hard, the shields and specialty gear were
energy hogs that had to be conserved for critical moments. When the exercise
concluded they discovered that the Major himself was the enemy op force
Commander. Major Forth was amused and surprised by how well the Neo's had done.
Valenko's squad had been up against an entire platoon of simulated suit and
vehicle armor and the Neo's had still cleaned their clocks.

...*...*...*...*...

The Major made sure to praise them for
their thought and designs during the exercise debrief. “You did good, I'm proud
of you. That's some thinking out of the box.”

“Thank you sir. Sergeant Riley deserves
some of the credit for coming up with the designs sir,” Valenko said.

“He earned a beer, I'll make sure he
gets it. But he made the systems, well him and Ox. You and your people took the
gear and created the techniques to not only use them, but counter them. I'm
proud of you for that. Good job.” He could see the exhaustion in the bear's
eyes. He nodded. He then turned to Silverman. “And I'm glad you pointed out the
weakness in the design, even though it cost us two prototypes,” he said.

“I honestly didn't know that would work
the way it did sir.  I remembered my classes, but I thought they'd just
short out.”

“I see. Well, it worked. Now we
know.”  He turned to Valenko. “Now I need you to train the other squads on
this equipment and the tactics for them. But not today. Tomorrow.”

“Aye aye sir,” the bear grunted.

“I'll have Schultz back to you soon, I
promise.”

“We're getting along without him sir,”
the bear rumbled as he shrugged.

“That's right, you did all that with two
men down,” Silverman said, shaking her head.

“One. We had Gusterson and Fonz. Both
are still shaping up.” The bear turned to the two rookies and gave them a look.
Fonz didn't squirm, but he did briefly see Gusterson's whip tail swish a few
times.

“I see.”

“Ox that a boy, damn good job. I want
your ass in the armory first thing in the morning making more. I'll see if I
can send some people over to you from each of the squads to help you and Riley
out. Maybe we can pass it on to a subcontractor or something.

“Aye sir,” Ox rumbled.

“Last thing, I don't want this equipment
brooded about. So no kudos’s on the public or military nets. I don't want
anyone getting wind of this. If they know about it, as you know, you lose half
your advantage.”

“Definitely sir,” Jethro said wryly. His
ears flicked. “And once they know about it, they can make their own.”

Gusterson nodded grudgingly. He
personally liked the idea of the shield in some respects, it gave him cover
when he needed to get to or work on wounded in an exposed location. But the
energy it put out and it's blue glow drew fire like a magnet. That part he
didn't
like.

The Major glanced his way and then back
to the room at large. “I'd like to say loose lips sink ships but that's a
squid's saying. What I am going to say is that if you talk you may get you or
your buddies killed so don't say anymore than what you have to get by with. I
know you're excited as I am about the tech. Good. Keep training on it. But
don't brag about it. That's an order.”

“Aye sir,” the squad said in unison.

“Good job all of you. I wish I had a
thousand more just like you. Dismissed.”

Two weeks after the exercises concluded
a routine security check of the station depots found life where it shouldn't
be, on one of the mothballed stations. Station two oh one had its lights on,
but no one was supposed to be home. The report quickly worked its way up the
chain of command but was intercepted and “misfiled”.

However the person who found the
squatters, Sensor tech third class Percy Jackson, talked to others when nothing
was done. His friends didn't believe him, but asked around or talked about it
with other crews. Slowly the news hit the grapevine. Eventually the gossip
worked its way around the enlisted, with some wondering why no one noticed.
Various theories were brooded about, such as a possible super secret project
that the brass didn't want anyone to know about.

Then the squatters announced their
presence with a radio press release. All hell broke loose after that.

Logan found out about squatters in the
depot station when his Yeoman came in and turned his wall screen on without
saying a word. Logan frowned ferociously at the intrusion, but then the subject
matter registered and he cursed.

“So what can we do?” the yeoman asked
when the initial cast finished and went into a repeat. “Sir?”

“What else? Send in the Marines,” the
Commander said grimly. He was more concerned about why no one had noticed and
the implications of that.

“Sir, are you sure that's wise? They're
soldiers, not police. Shouldn't we consider MP's?”

“They're re-taking our stations. I get
that they don't have training to deal with civilians, some do. Get Valenko's
squad on this, they are our best and brightest. But yes, have MP's come in
behind them to sweep up the mess.”

“Aye aye sir,” the yeoman nodded.

...*...*...*...*...

What the hell? Why did they do that?”
The governor demanded. “Why announce their presence? How stupid can these
idiots be?” he snarled.

“I don't know sir. Something happened.
Perhaps they got impatient and wanted it over and done with.”

“Or they were running low on
consumables,” Another aide said.

“That's certainly possible,” the first
said, nodding in agreement.

“How?!?” The governor demanded. “It's a
depot station!” He snarled, throwing up his hands. “How could they run low?”

“Perhaps it had things other than
consumables sir,” Senator Long said. “After all, the station wasn't intended to
be occupied. It could have, oh, I don't know, parts on it. Or raw materials for
all we know.”

“And the replicators? What about them?”
The governor demanded.

“If they were installed. Would you
install a replicator in a place that was rarely going to be used?” The senator
asked. The Governor fumed and sat back in his chair. He rocked back and forth,
digesting this missive for a few minutes.

“Either way, it doesn't matter,” Mr.
Edever said. “We need to move to phase three now or we'll lose,” he said
pointedly, looking at the senator.

Senator Long spread his hands. “I'll
try, but there are no guarantees. The senate is in recess now. We'd have to
call them back. We need to drag this out a bit to get the ball rolling on my
end,” he said. “I've still got some deals and arm twisting to do.”

“Then do it. Get it done,” the governor
ordered, waving a dismissive hand.

...*...*...*...*...

Ensign Valenko got the call just before
they were about to start another round of exercises. He scowled, then turned to
Gunny Schultz. The Gunny flicked his ears, but he could see the Doberman's
muzzle tighten ever so slightly in disapproval. This was going to be a sticky thing.
“Why us?” Asazi asked.

“We're the best!” Fonz said, holding up
a fist.

“There are Marines closer. In the annex.
Why us?” Asazi asked.

“Those are our orders. We carry them
out. Maybe command thinks we'll scare them into surrendering. I don't know,”
Valenko said. “Get your gear and game face on people. Time to earn our pay,” he
said moving to the lockers.

“Shuttle leaves in ten!” Schultz called
out. He glanced at Pa'nash. The Veraxin hesitated briefly, but then caught him
looking at her. Her four eyes moved in unison, a Veraxin equivalent of rolling
her eyes.

“I'll be fine Gunny, honest,” she said,
moving to her locker. His eyes lingered on her briefly before he moved to his
own locker.

...*...*...*...*...

The media went into a feeding frenzy,
the Navy was forced to hold off noisome leased tug ships that suddenly flocked
to military controlled space. Mr. Gutierrez flat out refused to take any ticks
and fleas into naval space, he did so quite loudly on a live media feed during
an interview.

The inbound Marines were hastily given
new ROE orders. “This is direct from Major Forth,” Valenko said, reading the
orders. “Don't fire unless fired upon, record everything and for spirit of
space sake don't make an ass of yourselves on system wide media,” he read out loud,
eyes scanning the text.

“Great, that means no strong arming
anyone, no beating, and I'm assuming no one goes out a lock without a suit,”
Schultz said, checking his people. The Ensign had chosen armored skin suits
over powered combat armor. Now he knew why, the bear wanted to make a
statement, but didn't want to look like an armored fist. Or at least not
anymore than he had to.

“Sure, take all the fun out of it,” Fonz
grumbled, pouting.

“Zip it. It just got more interesting
not less. Watch it people.”

“Great, that's all we need. The long eye
and big mouth of the media.”

“Hey man, Knox news is all right.”

“Yeah well, they are, but some of the
others aren't. And some of them are out to get us. Remember that.”

“Great.”

“You really are a killjoy Fonz.”

Schultz glanced at the double squad of
back up troops. Eight Marine police had been scrounged up from Firefly, along
with two medics, a pair of naval techs and a naval Ensign. All were human, all
seemed more nervous about being in a tight fitted room with Neo's than the
mission. There had been a brief spat between Valenko and the human Ensign, the
human hadn't understood that date of rank put the bear in charge. That had been
settled before they had left Firefly's boat bay.

That was good, they didn't need the
added complication of a divided chain of command. Things were going to be dicey
as it was. “Remember the ROE. Stunners only. Don't point a weapon unless you're
under imminent threat. The first one to pull the trigger will be in hack. I'll
have you cleaning Firefly with a toothbrush for years,” he snarled.

“Hooyah Gunny!”

“Don't be as intimidating as you'd like
to be. Keep it down. We don't want some freaked trigger happy yahoo going off
and starting a fire fight because you growled or showed your fangs. Keep your
cool.”

“Hooyah Gunny!”

...*...*...*...*...

About a million kilometers out from the
station the pilot went into a slow turn, orbiting the station as he bled off
velocity. Valenko took the opportunity to study the layout and sensor readings.
“From the looks of things there are about fifty tangos in the station,” he
said, pointing to the white hot spots moving around inside. “Most are in the
habitats and control room.”

“Sir, the dock isn't responding to our
hail,” the pilot reported.

Valenko took control of a camera and
zoomed in. He sat back when the image cleared. “That's why. It looks like they
barricaded the door.” He could see crates tacked all over the auxiliary docking
port. A shuttle was docked to the primary port.

“So...”

“So if they did that there, then they
did it on the inside too. Which means we have to go out of the box.”

“Suddenly I'm glad I'm in my suit,”
Jethro said.

“Not for long,” Valenko said, eying the
panther. The panther nodded. He looked beyond to a MP who gulped and slapped his
visor down. Another was busy checking his tell tales on his right arm.

“Pilot, give me a minute to report,”
Valenko said.

“Your dime jarhead. I'm just sitting
here with the meter running,” the pilot retorted.

...*...*...*...*...

The Marines took the action and
responsibility grimly when they saw a child waving to them out of a view port.
Another child joined them. Schultz's jaw tightened as an adult female pulled
the children away and then looked out the view port herself. She looked scared
from her expression. She said something over her shoulder and a man joined her.
He hugged her, rubbing her shoulders as he glared up at them in defiance.

“This isn't going to be easy,” Schultz
said softly. “Or pretty. Either way we're going to get egg on our face,” he said.

“Here's what we're going to do,” Valenko
said. He pointed to the depot warehouses. “Pilot, we're going to cut a breach
and dock there. I'll need you to do it right, don't rip her up. Try to keep as
good a seal as possible.”

“Roger.”

“Sergei, get the goop out. Ox, help him
out with the welder. We'll no doubt suck air out of that compartment, it'll be
a sieve, but try to patch it the best you can. The rest of us will move in and
secure the compartment. MP's and you squids follow in our wake. Wait for the
all clear,” he said, pointedly looking at the naval Ensign. The young man
nodded, totally professional for the moment.

They felt a bump as the Grendel made
dock. Valenko checked the feed, the pilot was holding onto the hull of the
compartment with the waldo arms. Lasers cut through the hull, a small breach
hopefully. When the oval was complete a hood was extended, attaching itself to
the hull with magnets. “Is that clean enough for you?” the pilot asked.

“Damn nice,” Schultz said. “Door?”

“Suits on!” Valenko said, looking
around. He checked his HUD one last time as each buddy checked his partner then
gave a thumbs up. When the last squid cleared he nodded to the Doberman.

Schultz swung the handle of the hatch
and then pulled the door inward. The tunnel to the exit was dark, barely lit by
two small LEDs and the still cooling glow of the cut metal at the far end. They
didn't need the light, their suits could see just fine. Schultz moved in and
kicked the door in.

The door tumbled into the compartment
with a clang, there were signs of minor out gassing but nothing major. Valenko
was waving his people inward. “Go! Go!” He followed Asazi in as the Marines
moved out.

His squad spread out to secure the
compartment, following their training to check all their zones carefully for
IEDs. When the all clear was signaled he turned to the Tauren. Ox nodded once
and then shouldered his rifle. He patted the liger on the arm and the two
turned, pulling out equipment and patching the hull around the improvised lock.

Asazi, Hurranna, Fonz, and Schultz
stacked up on either side of the lock to the interior of the station. Their
compartment was much like the compartment they had just trained in, over a
kilometer long and wide, about two hundred meters tall and filled with
equipment. There was also only one way in or out of it, the door on the far end
that they were on.

Hurranna put her ear to the bulkhead and
frowned. She hand signed to the others. Schultz listened for a moment then
checked his sensors. He swore softly. Two people were on the other side of the
lock with a welder.

“They're welding the door shut,” he said
over their radio link.

“Can't have that,” Asazi said. She
looked at the small hand sized window. A pair of eyes looked back at her. She
reached down and pulled a small breaching charge from her breast pocket and
then held it up to the window. She gave the wide eyed person on the other side
a moment to realize her intent and then slapped it to the hatch. She counted
down with her hands in front of the window, then on the radio. “Fire in the
hole in three, two... one! Fire in the hole!” she said, turning away like her
squad mates.

The charge detonated, blowing the still
hot welds and warping the door. She reached into the warped door and yanked,
pulling it open further. Some air rushed past her but she ignored it. Hurranna
slipped through the gap. “Two tangos here, both surrendered,” she reported.

“Roger,” Schultz said, working with the
heavy worlder on the hatch.

“I got it,” she grunted, using her
enhanced strength to move the door. She pulled it back and inward. The door
creaked and then opened further. Fonz dropped between her thighs, covering the
lynx. After a moment he was through the gap as well, bending and twisting to get
in and past her legs.

When the gap was open far enough Valenko
checked his atmo readouts. They were green. He pointed to Jethro. “Go. Secure
the control room,” he said.

The panther nodded and shucked his
skinsuit.

...*...*...*...*...

Despite passive resistance, Jethro made
his way past his the civilian jackers while cloaked. He sent a running feed
back to Valenko who made note of the improvised defenses.