Jethro: First to Fight (39 page)

For that matter, the entire command
chain was still a fracked up mess. Captains like Pendeckle were running squads
while also overseeing the platoon. They were supposed to be past that, focusing
on the larger picture and leaving the squads to the lieutenants to manage. It
was a form of micromanaging that some were starting to grumble about. Hopefully
they would get over themselves and get the mess sorted out soon.

He was pretty much resigned to the fact that
they were going to lose the Gunny. He closed his eyes, ignoring the scents of
the others around him in the troop bay. The writing was on the wall, the way he
was being borrowed, sometimes for days at a time. Which made him nervous now
that he thought about it. Apparently they were grooming
him
to replace
the Gunny. That was daunting in itself.

His in-box dinged. He flipped open the
file manager and snorted. There were two messages, both congratulations. The
headers said from Ensign Valenko and the Gunny. The Gunny's was terse, just a
good job with a dry apology at not having a ceremony. The panther snorted, as
if he wanted or needed to play dress up. Valenko's seemed quick as well, he did
put in that he had also passed all his exams of course. The officers had
something else in mind for him Jethro bet.

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

Valenko was surprised by the Major and
other senior officers in the afternoon. He had called in for the weekly debrief
and wasn't really sure about the need. They had a debrief yesterday morning and
nothing had changed... Or so he had thought. “Sir? What's this about?” he asked
the Major as the other officers looked up from the holographic projection they
had been studying.

“Attention to orders!” the Major
growled. Valenko snapped to parade rest as did the other officers in the room.
For some reason Captain Pendeckle was grinning. “By this date, Ensign Valenko
after serving well in combat and for his beneficial influence to the Marine
corps and its objectives is now promoted to second Lieutenant,” the Major
intoned bluntly, all business. He turned as Captain Pendeckle handed him a box.
The Major opened it and took the new butter bar out. He removed Valenko's
Ensign pip and replaced it with the bar. “Wear it in good health Lieutenant,” he
said, saluting. Valenko returned the salute.

“Thank you sir.” He really was at a loss
on what to say so he stuck to what he felt was safe. He could feel data flowing
from the Major and Firefly to him. An implant update most likely he realized.

“Now,” the Major said, slightly easing
up. “Go find your squad and a bar and have a good time. You and they are off
for the evening as of now. You've earned it son.”

“Thank you sir,” Valenko rumbled with a
nod. That was a bit of a tradition after a promotion. “Just as long as they
don't try to make
me
run the gauntlet,” he grumbled. That got a laugh
from the other officers.

“I don't think anyone would
dare
.”

“Seriously, good job. Outstanding work.
Keep up the hard work and someday you'll be in my seat.”

Valenko eyed the Major with disfavor
suddenly. “Thanks but no thanks sir, I hate paperwork,” he growled shaking his
head vehemently.

All the other officers laughed at that.
The Major smiled and patted him on the shoulder again. “It does have its
trials, I admit that. I do admit that,” he growled. They chuckled again as the
group dispersed.

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

Gunny and Jethro met him outside, ears
up and smiling slightly. “What are you two looking at?” Valenko mock growled.
He glared at them with brows knit. Jethro was more than a little smug. Gunny
nodded as if something had been proven.

Both came to attention and saluted. He
returned the salute. “Get out of here. Round up the crew we've got work to do,”
Valenko growled.

“Work?” Jethro asked blinking.

“What? You think I'm not going to get
plastered so you can haul my fat ass home?” Valenko demanded. None of the squad
could drink him under the table. There was something to be said about bears,
they could handle their liquor.

“Oh shit!” Jethro said with a wailing
chuckle. The Gunny grunted. “This means Sergei's the designated sober this
round. No way do I need that much of a work out. I do not need the hernia.” He
shook his head and rubbed the small of his back.

“Spoil sport,” Valenko growled with a
dismissive wave.

Valenko's squad reformed for training
ops once promotions settled down and people began to be reassigned.

Letanga was assigned as lead sniper to
another squad. The leopard was replaced with a greenhorn Jethro has to train on
the job. Since the Private was running late they went into the sim without him.
Half way through Valenko got a call and dropped out of the sim, dropping the
command role onto Jethro.

Valenko took the PFC's introduction file
and read it thoughtfully, watching with half an eye as the sim ran. Kovu stood
at parade rest, swishing his tail occasionally. Eventually his eyes fell on the
sim feed. That got his attention.

Private first class Kovu. Kovu was
excited and hyper off duty, but quiet and scary in sim combat according to his bio-jacket.
The Leo resented being upstaged and outranked until he saw the panther in
combat.

“Sergeant Jethro, this is PFC Kovu.
Kovu, Jethro. Jethro is senior sniper of the squad and second noncom. He served
as co platoon leader in Boot,” Valenko said when their current exercise
terminated.

Jethro sneezed and then got to his feet,
still off balance by the virtual sim. “Pleased to meet you,” he muttered.

Right off after introductions were
complete Kovu bragged about his girlfriend Kiara. “Yup, she's like me. She's
going to go into boot soon.”

“Really?”

“Yup, soon. We'll be together. Lean and
mean, lean and mean,” he growled playfully, making a muscle. “A team,” he said.
Jethro snorted and shot Valenko a look. The bear rumbled and closed his eyes.

He had something of an attitude, right
off the start Jethro realized. The lion resented being there, resented Jethro's
senior rank and his own secondary position as a shooter and spotter. Jethro
could tell from the Leo’s scent and body language. He was tempted to call the
Leo on it several times but wasn't sure how to best approach the problem.
Training said head on, but he didn't want an issue later. He still had a ways
to go with the NCO course load.

“So what shit did I land into this
time?” Kovu asked. “How are you on the standings? Dead last?” he asked, eying
Jethro.

“First,” Valenko said mildly, still
reading the bio. There wasn't much there, the kid had little combat experience.
Good on paper, but that was just it, on paper. He'd pulled guard duty the past
six months. He'd barely squeaked by the sniper class to get the strips to PFC.
Kovu obviously resented the transfer, he had thought he'd be lead sniper in a
squad.

“Wait, Lieutenant Valenko... um...” Kovu
frowned.

“Yes?” Valenko asked, looking up with brown
eyes.

“I...” Kovu's eyes went wide. “The
Valenko? The one everyone talks about all the time? Recon? I'm in recon?”

“Well dur, I thought you'd of noticed
that in your orders,” Hurranna said, getting off her rack. She dropped to the
deck and pulled a water bottle out of her ruck and then chugged it down.

“Um...” Kovu glared at the lynx. She
just flicked her ears at him but kept lapping at the water.

“So, you're all from F platoon. Cooool,”
Kovu said softly. His attitude underwent a change before their eyes, he
straightened and seemed to almost strut. It was obvious he now realized whose
squad he had been transferred to. His Major arrogant chip on his shoulder grew
into more of a boulder.

“Well, It seems I'm now the big man on
campus!”

Kovu had a black short mane and furry
tip on his tail. Unlike most Leo's he had a lean tawny body, almost feminine.
He was a male Neo lion with cougar genes. Full blooded African Neolions were
broad chested and kilo's larger. The Leo’s bio reported that he was about eight
years old, just a teen in Neo time.

“Lance Corporal Hurranna, PFC Kovu,
second sniper. Hurranna, show the new meat around and intro him to the squad.
The Sergeant and I need to talk for a bit,” the bear said.

“Sure thing boss,” Hurranna said,
capping her water and putting it away. She waved to the lion. “After you,” she
said, pointing him in the direction of the troop bay's hatch. “Galley is that
away, so is the head on the left. We're headed there now to eat so I'll intro
you later.”

Valenko and Jethro watched the rest of
the squad move out behind the new meat and Hurranna. Kovu was clearly excited,
looking around.

“Ah the stupidity of youth,” Valenko
muttered. “He'll get us all killed.”

“Oh come on we all think we're
invincible at that age,” Jethro teased.

“Yeah,” the bear said eying him. “And if
memory serves we grow out of it eventually if we want to survive. I'm not sure
he will.”

“Hopefully. You're only young once,”
Jethro replied.

“Right,” Valenko sighed. “That's what
scares me.”

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

Jethro was annoyed by the subtle
challenge the lion occasionally threw his way. Finally he barked at the young
male. They had a bout on the wrestling mat to iron out their differences.

Had the Gunny been on hand, the lion
wouldn't have been a problem. A single look or bark from the Neo-Doberman would
have brought the bigger cat to heel fast. Unfortunately the Doberman was off
helping with training.

Kovu was constantly picking at Jethro, either
refusing an order to get squared away, or moving slowly, surly. He was
constantly testing Jethro, seeing what he could get away with. Jethro found
that he had to be constantly on the lion's ass to keep him on his feet and
moving. Should he get the chance he'd rack out the moment the panther's back
was turned. He had seemingly no initiative, no interest in getting the job done
right unless it was sim related.

Twice in sims he had tripped Jethro up.
Jethro wasn't sure if he wanted the panther to look bad on purpose or if he was
just too young and eager.

The lion was a distant cousin of Hrriss.
Since he was larger than Jethro he immediately assumed it would be a cakewalk.
However Jethro has been in the Marines now for over a year and was now well
versed in hand to hand combat. He'd learned quite a few tricks in all the bouts
he'd had. The panther shocked the other Neo with his brutality and savage no
nonsense combat.

Lions fought with tooth and claw,
ripping and tearing at each other in a free for all brawl. Intimidation was a
factor in all Neo combat. Knowing someone could screw you up tended to make
some Neo's submit or more cautious. Some were tricky, feigning injury or
infirmness to get an enemy overconfident and in close. Jethro was all about
science, taking the lion down with lightening fast moves, not even using his
cloak.

When the battle was over both were
injured. The lion was subdued, he'd damn near pissed himself when Jethro had
locked his enhanced jaws on his throat. Without his mane his throat had been
hideously vulnerable to the other cat, he'd come to realize that being a Marine
in that case, with their attention to personal hygiene had its drawbacks. Being
forced to shave sucked in more ways than looks. He tried not to shiver,
Jethro's canines were perilously close to his jugular.

Jethro slowly released him when Kovu
relaxed and tapped out. Both cats were shaking and wide eyed as they separated.
Jethro's eyes were slitted, he was still enraged, but now very aware that he
was taking the feud too far. His tail thrashed as he fought to get a hold of
his anger.

Kovu backed away, eyes fully dilated in
fear, ears flat, one hand going to his throat. Jethro could smell the faint
hint of ammonia. The younger cat had pissed himself in fear. He was a little
ashamed at taking it so far and losing control.

Valenko waddled in. Jethro realized that
he had let himself go, expressing his dominance in animal fashion, setting up
the pack order. He was a little ashamed of that, at least until he saw a
familiar shape in the shadows. His enhanced eyes narrowed as his implants
picked out the Gunny. The Gunny stood there in the shadow of the hatch, arms
crossed. He slowly nodded, and then raised a thumbs up to Jethro. The panther
blinked. What did he mean...

“Sometimes you have to kick a little ass
in order to get them to pay attention,” the Gunny sent in a quick text, then
stepped back into the shadows. “Some need to be scared shitless of you more
than the enemy if you want them to listen to you and do what needs to be done.
Remember that,” he said and then closed the chat. Jethro blinked and saved that
for later. He turned to the bear.

“Is the recess match over?” Valenko
rumbled. “Because if it isn't, if you have any further problems with the chain
of command
I'll
be your next opponent.” Valenko gently pointed. He
growled softly. The lion gulped. “And then I'll bust every stripe you've got
and brig you. If you survived my lesson that is,” The bear said ever so mildly.
The Leo shuddered and looked down and away, immediately and completely cowed.

Valenko met Jethro's amused look with
one of his own. He nodded to both and ordered them to shower and then report to
the infirmary. Both Neo's followed orders quietly, not saying a word.

“What happened? And don't give me a story,
I hate stories,” Gusterson said, dabbing at a cut.

“We got a bit carried away on the mat.
We needed to settle our differences. We did,” Jethro replied.

“It got a little out of hand,” Jethro
said quietly as the greyhound studied the wounded to the lion's throat.

“A little?”

“Nothing we both can't handle. We're
recon. We play rough.” The lion agreed with a nod. Gusterson didn't comment as
he finished patching them up.

“Good moves kid,” Jethro said when
Gusterson finished up. “Want a beer?” he asked. “I'm buying.” The lion's golden
eyes widened in surprise and then he nodded. “What do you say doc? You in? My
treat,” Jethro said.  The medic declined with a shake of his head.

“Your loss doc. Thanks for patching us
up,” Jethro rumbled as they made their way out, both limping slightly.

“Sometimes adversity builds
friendships,” Valenko murmured, watching them go.

“Sir?” the medic asked, now confused.

“Nothing. Never mind. Let's get going,
Halsey wants the mat.”

“Yes sir.”

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

“Still having issues sir?” Valenko
asked, turning to Captain Pendeckle.

“I see what you do, but it's one thing
to see it...” the Captain shook his head. Silverman snorted. “It's not just
your people,” the Captain said, giving the human Lieutenant a quelling look.

“No sir. Part of it is training, part of
it is, well, you know it, but you don't.”

“Explain.”

“Hot wash?” the bear rumbled. The
captain nodded.

“Oh this oughta be good,” Silverman
said.

“Can we check the ego's and rank
please?” the bear asked. The Captain nodded. Silverman blinked in surprise.
When he saw the Captain nod he scowled ever so slightly but then nodded as
well.

“Good. This isn't meant to be deriding
or cruel, it's to get you to see what you need to train for. First off, hand
signs. Stop relying on your implants. If you make a radio signal you are
letting everyone in the area know where you are.”

The Captain nodded. He'd worked on the
hand signs but they were a pain in the ass to learn and sometimes a pain in the
ass to use. He could say something verbally or over an implant and get his
meaning across fast and clear. Hand signs could be misinterpreted.

“Second, work on your camo. Break up
shadows and lines. A human body and face are easy to see, same for a Veraxin.”

“Okay.”

“Fire and maneuver are the building
block for any assault. But you, well, every marine unit we've seen or gone up
against has a bit of tunnel vision. It's called Funneling. I know the old
saying is march to the sound of the guns, but when you do you focus on the
source. You bottle up on a target or clearing and your people forget to cover
their threat zones. Many times they cluster too close. That's an open
invitation for a mortar, claymore, or rapid fire weapon like a Gatling.”

The Captain winced. “And I take it you
can plan for that.”

The bear nodded and then shrugged. “If
you know what your enemy is going to do, where they are likely to cluster, yes
sir, I can.”

“I see.”

“They have a good habit of glancing
back, I'm guessing that's to check their six if Jethro's involved.”

“Yes.”

“Which is good, but if you are so
focused on where you been, you are less focused on what's in front of you.”

“I see.”

“Muzzle creep is another thing, most
people aim high,” The bear stood and put his hand out chest high for him, which
was about ten centimeters above the Captain's head. “But...” the bear ducked
into a crouch. “When people pull the trigger they tend to jerk up slightly, so
the beam goes up. The further away the higher the round goes, the less likely
it is to come close to hitting someone unless they are up there,” the bear said
pointing up. Then he dropped to all fours. “If you are down here, it's
nothing.” He dropped to his belly. It would look comical if he wasn't so
serious. “Now if I'm down here it's just noise.”