Jethro: First to Fight (24 page)

The hatch to the control room was open.
Jethro went inside and then shut it behind him. Big red turned to look behind
him just in time for the cat to decloak and grab him by the throat.
“Surrender,” Jethro snarled, ears back, teeth bared.

The big human immediately pissed
himself, wide eyed in the clutches of a Neo predator. He didn't move, beads of
fear sweat formed on his face and brow. His face was gray. Jethro looked
around. There were two other humans, both unarmed. Each were sitting in a
control chair, eyes wide. “It's over,” Jethro snarled. Both nodded, eyes
frightened. “I've captured the control room sir,” Jethro reported.

“Roger that,” Valenko replied. He looked
over to see Hurranna as she finished zip tying her two passive prisoners.
“Moving out,” the bear said.

He moved into the inner compartment and
faced the humans and Veraxins within. Scared faces stared at him, no longer
defiant, just afraid Women clutched their children to their sides. The Marines
moved slowly through the compartment, securing a path for the follow up team.
Valenko scanned them. There were only a few weapons, all were confiscated.

“This station is naval property. You
people are trespassing,” Valenko said as he signaled the navy team and MP's to
join them. “Jethro, link me to the station intercom,” he ordered.

The panther nodded and jacked into the
station net. He sent commands to it. The civilians had tried to create a
firewall preventing his access, but the military overrides were hardwired in.
It only took a moment for the Ensign to use him as a port to access the
computer and intercom. “Civilians on the station! You are in violation of
Federation law by trespassing here. We have secured this station and you will
comply with our lawful orders. Any resistance will be dealt with.” He cut the
link. The civilian people in the compartment looked up and then teared up when
Valenko finished addressing the station. Suddenly the station echoed with
wailing children, Jethro was off balance mentally, not sure what to do or how
to handle it.

“You will leave. My orders are to escort
you away from military space. Where you go from there is your problem,” Valenko
said.

“Where!” A woman cried, waving her
hands. “We can't go! We can't! We can't, we can't, we just Can't! Don't you
understand! There is no place to go! And our shuttle is out of fuel anyway!”
She glared at the bear until a man pulled her away. She turned to him and
cried.

“Why can't we stay?” a child asked
plaintively.

Valenko looked at the child. “It's not
up to me. You broke the law.” He turned to one side. “Ox,” he said, raising a
hand paw to his helmet. “Take Sergei and find the civilian shuttle. Word is
it's out of fuel. Check it.”

“Roger.”

“Where are you from? Vesta?” Asazi
asked.

“Yes,” Big Red said, making his way into
the compartment. He had a slight bruise on his throat. He rubbed at it. “We're
from Vesta.”

“Ah.”

“Our shuttle is out of fuel. That's
true. And, well, I'm not sure where we can go. The mayor of Vesta said we can't
come back.”

“He's in on it? Interesting,” Valenko
said.

“They told us you'd let us stay. That we
could have the station,” a woman said. She bit her lip when Asazi looked at
her.

“And you think that's right? Just come
onto the station and take it for yourselves?”

“Why not? No one was using it!” Big Red
said, waving a hand.

“So much for your bright ass idea,” Mary
red said in disgust, glaring at her husband for all she was worth. He hunched
his shoulders.

“I thought it would work,” he muttered.

“Well, it didn't genius, so what now?”
she demanded, hands on her hips.

“I don't know,” he mumbled. “It's up to
them,” he said, indicating the Marines. She turned to them, looking at each.

“So? Now what?” She asked.

“I'll get back to you on that ma'am,”
Valenko replied.

“It was... you know what, not my
discussion,” Asazi said, patience exhausted. She was never one for debate. She
turned to the bear as the naval personnel came in. The naval Ensign looked
around, and then without a word waved the techs ahead of him to the control
room. When they were gone MP's came in. They looked around warily.

“Ensign Valenko,” Ox's familiar voice
said over the radio.

“Go ahead,” the bear said.

“Shuttle secure. It is indeed out of
fuel and it's life support is drained. I don't see how they could make it
anywhere.”

“Roger. Leave Sergei there and then
check the rest of the station,” Valenko ordered. He motioned to the MP's. “You
guard the prisoners. “Asazi, Hurranna, Schultz, check the rest of the station.

“What about me?” Fonz asked over the
link.

Valenko grimaced. “Guard our shuttle.”

“Roger,” Fonz replied sullenly. He'd
hoped for action and wasn't getting what he wanted. Tough for him, the bear
thought.

“What do we do?” Asazi asked, now
uneasy.

“What else? Pass it on to someone above
our pay grade of course. Our job is to do the dirty work. Now they get to
figure out what to do next.”

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

Logan discussed it with the command
staff. Mayor Ralkin was called, he confirmed that yes he had indeed provided
the squatters with the shuttle to rid himself of Big Red's group, good riddance
to them. He didn't have the life support for them and they would be locked out
if they returned. Then the mayor cut the circuit.

Logan scowled and passed that bit of
recorded conversation over to Knox news. They were begging for an interview,
hopefully that would throw them off for a moment.

His staff called the station and other
colony leaders. Enrique said he didn't have room. That was a flat out lie, he
could tell just from the way the man didn't meet his eyes. Other colony leaders
said pretty much the same thing. He realized the fix was in.

Governor Walker tried to intervene,
court orders flew in a blizzard. Judge Farley intercepted them, stating that
the trespass was a federal matter before he quashed the orders. The governor
changed tactics, he tried to pass orders to protect the civilians from the big
mean navy. An eminent domain bill was squashed in the house committee on
grounds that the Senate and house were not officially in session and they
didn't have enough of a quorum to vote the bill out. There was a media blitz,
including footage of the retaking of the station by the Marines.

Logan wasn't happy, and even less happy
about Walker being all over the situation. His fingerprints were all over it.
He talked with the staff, but none have a solution that didn't leave egg all
over the faces of the navy. Killing them was obviously out, so was exile, which
amounted to the same thing.

“We could always talk with them. See
what they think sir,” Valenko said over the net. There was a second delay until
a response. He wasn't sure why he was in the discussion, it was over his head.
It looked bad though, they were stuck in a crack. From the sound of it
Commander Logan was grasping at straws. Perhaps he wanted a fresh set of eyes?

“Go ask them,” the Commander ordered
over the link.

“Yes sir,” Valenko said, and then turned
to the Gunny. “Find the leader, Big Red. Get him in here,” he ordered. The
Marines and squatters had gotten to know each other fairly well over the past
three days. The squatters had been just about out of food, they had thought the
depot would have everything, instead it had been specialized for furniture and
fittings. They had had only what they had brought with them plus what could be
made with the tiny drink recycler. No wonder they had called in. They had
wanted the navy to intervene.

Big Red came in the compartment with
Mary. She was an inhibiting presence for her husband, like a bucket of cold
water. He didn't dare bluster with her around, she cut him down faster than
Valenko could. After the second day he had been reduced to a meek man.

“We've got a problem. You were right,
Mayor Ralkin confirmed he kicked you out. He and every colony leader have
refused you asylum. None want you.”

“You're kidding me!” Mary said, aghast.

“Yeah. Which is a problem,” Valenko
said, indicating that they should sit in the chairs nearby. “Commander Logan,
The Red's are here,” he said and opened the link. A holographic image of the
Commander appeared in the center of the main engineering control console.

“Sir,” Valenko said.

The Reds looked at each other and then
straightened themselves up a bit. The woman finger combed errant hair strands
out of her eyes hastily. “We seem to be in a pickle. The both of us. Any ideas
on how to get out of this?”

“Sir...” Valenko sighed. “I thought we
were going to brig them or something. I'm guessing that is out?”

“We don't have a brig big enough except
on San Diego. And I'm not having them sit around eating up food and sucking our
air like ticks. No, I'm all for punishment, but I'm not going to be stupid
about it. And I'm not thrilled about the death penalty for this. Not for entire
families.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear
that,” Mary said. “Sir.”

“Sir...” Valenko rubbed his jaw, looking
around. “It seems to me that the punishment should fit the crime. They need to
be housed, we have a place right here.”

“Oh? Go on.”

The bear ignored the looks the humans in
the room were giving him. “We give them a compromise. A choice. They can either
enlist or sign on as civilian contractors and we will train them to our
standards on how to run and live on this station as well as others.”

“Are you serious Ensign?” Horatio
demanded. “Just tamely hand over the station? And others?”

“No sir, not tamely. They will be fined,
but we will have navy crews on board with them. They will be working for us.
Right folks? Steady job, shelter, food, life support...” The bear said.

Big Red scowled. He looked mulish but
his wife Mary agreed. “Sounds good to me. I'm glad someone's finally talking
sense,” she said with a smile of approval.

He turned on his wife in shock and
surprise. “What?”

“Honey, how are we going to live here
without food and water? Without power? We need supplies silly. This place has
none.” Mary had come to realize they had been duped. They had been pawns in a
game of politics. She didn't like that, she didn't like being used.

“They can send us...”

“NO! I will not be a dependent. Not for
one minute longer. We can pull our own weight,” she turned imploringly to
Logan. “We can, honest we can. We just never could get the opportunity. My
husband is a pilot, I'm a life support engineer. The others are all techs with
various skills. Give us a chance sir.”

Logan frowned. This was a problem, one
he hadn't anticipated. Slowly though, the idea grew on him. Walker had put him
in this position, he could see his fingerprints all over this. Fine then, he'll
turn it on its head. “All right, we're giving you this chance. You'll be paid,
minus the trespassing fine and any charges for damage to the station. we'll
work out the details later.”

Mary let out a heartfelt sigh of relief.
“Thank you sir.” She poked her husband. He oofed and looked at her. She
silently indicated to him to say something.

“Um, thank you sir. We won't let you
down. We just wanted a place to live and a chance to prove ourselves sir,” Big
Red said.

“I'll give you that chance. Don't blow
it,” Horatio replied and then cut the link.

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

“Steady Panache,” Schultz said softly.
“You okay Marine?” he asked. Jethro turned slightly, hearing that. He caught
sight of the Veraxin shaking ever so slightly. He turned more.

“I'm good sir, relief,” the Veraxin
chittered. They were going to be headed home soon. “See? It's passing,” she
said. “Just nerves feeling relief.”

“Right. If you have any flashes, let me
know,” Schultz said kindly, as he patted her on her upper shoulders. She bobbed
a nod and then went back to looking out the window.

Schultz noted Jethro watching and came
over. He pulled the Marine panther to one side. “I didn't want you to see
that,” he said.

“Sorry Gunny. I am curious though. Chalk
it up to the nature of a cat. I'll keep my nose short,” he said. It wasn't his
business and yet it was, the safety of the squad was a concern for every
member.

Schultz sighed, looking back the way he
had come. Finally he opened a private link. “This stays between you and me.
Panache has a touch of PTSD from her first combat tour when we took the pirates
two years ago. She's had therapy, she's sound now.”

“Okay,” Jethro replied, nodding. He
didn't know what to say. PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was a concern
for every Marine. They were trained to handle it though, to recognize the signs
and to counsel to minimize its effects. Then he frowned when those thoughts
registered. They were trained. She hadn't been. She had been a Marine before
boot, untrained, barely disciplined, sent into the line of fire with just the
knowledge of what end the rounds came out of her rifle. He winced. Now he got
it.