Jethro: First to Fight (42 page)

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Authors: Chris Hechtl

BOOK: Jethro: First to Fight
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The Lieutenant looked around, pursed his
lips as his crew stood near fighting positions. His hazel eyes locked onto his
Sergeant's. Sergeant Minachelli was more than happy to finally get some of
their own back, he was grinning savagely as he locked and loaded.

Myers turned, lips turning into a tight
lipped smile. He'd been hassled the whole way, getting sniped, strafed,
mortared, and he was thoroughly tired of being chased all over virtual
creation. He had to admit getting some of his own back was worth the chance of
getting their asses chewed later. Latrine duty sounded good if he could get
some of his own back.

He snorted. “Damn straight,” he said
with a grin as his hand smacked into the bear's paw. “Let's do it,” he growled
as they shook hands. He checked to make sure he was locked and loaded as
Valenko sent him the battle plan. He grunted as he looked it over and then
nodded curtly. It was a little tricky on the timing but simple and brutal. He
loved it already. He left at a trot, pointing to his troops and quietly
positioning them where he wanted them.

Valenko watched him go, updating his
plan as the other officer added his own quirks. This would get interesting he
thought with a savage smile. The best defense was always a good offense, and
they were about to prove it.

As the squads settled down for a nervous
but eager wait he listened. Just has he had expected the animals started
chirping and making noise once more. He raised his muzzle to the wind. It was
blowing just right, from the north west almost directly behind the incoming
opposition force. He could just catch the scent of aftershave and deodorant in
the wind. Would they ever learn?

He heard the brush rustling about one
hundred and fifty meters out after a few minutes. The simulated local wildlife
was dead quiet now, so it made picking out the sounds incredibly easy even
without enhanced hearing. There was the occasional crackle of breaking branches
and soft cursing. The enemy squads were coming in hot, not really focusing on
stealth doctrine as they ran to catch up with the retreating squad. That was a
strategic mistake.

When the enemy squads got to the
clearing at a run they were ambushed. The dropship took off with the wounded to
clear the area just before the op force exited the tree line and come through
the gap in the tree barrier that had been left for them. Their entire focus is
on the retreating ship, not on the hunkered down Marines waiting for them on
the other side of the clearing and it's flanks.

The Lieutenant swore softly and then
laughed as Valenko turned the tables. Mortar fire ripped into the opposing tree
line. Valenko had been precise when he'd laid his people out, and his people
were the gods of war it seemed. Rounds tore into the opposition force from
behind, shocking them and tearing them apart with their savagery. Claymore
mines lovingly sown went off as the squads turned to run. Snipers got in early
savage rounds under the cover of the explosions and retreating dropship. Chaos
ensued as the opposition forces were cut down like wheat. Some of the
opposition force dropped to the virtual ground and tried to find cover but he
knew they were just delaying the inevitable. The LT laughed as sim ended
abruptly.

“Anyone tell you the op order was to
cover
the extraction and get out?” he asked as they pull off their helmets. “Not that
I'm complaining or anything.” He stretched grinning. Damn that felt good. It
felt great to win like that, to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. He was
pretty sure the Major had been leading the op, with virtual forces near every
conceivable extraction point. The bastards could probably respawn too. From the
look on the opposition squad leader's faces they were certainly pissed at being
cheated out of the kill. Just about everyone had probably wanted in on taking
Valenko down a peg.

“The best defense is a good offense,”
Valenko said with a shrug. He stretched as he looked over to Jethro. The
panther's rack was depressed, he could see the goggles hovering in the air, but
the panther was cloaked still. He had his uniform on of course but it looked
like an empty shell. That was still too cool for words.

“Damn that's wild,” a Private said
coming over to get a better view at the rack. “Ghost man,” he said softly. He
whistled.

“Something like that,” the bear said.

“What's he doing?” Myers asked.

“Cleaning up. Or he was.”

“I thought the sim had ended?”

“Probably did but he's not through.
Apparently someone left it up for him to try to frag his ass,” Valenko said.
He'd have to talk to the Major about that. It wasn't fair to pull him and his
squad out but leave the panther in. If it had been a real op his squad would
have come to the panther's in support. He'd had a plan for Jethro to fall back
into the sniper's range of fire if needed.

“Glad he's on our side,” a woman said
fervently.

“Wasn't this op,” the first Private said
in disgust. He scowled at the panther's rack.

“You know what I mean,” the woman said,
grabbing a towel. “I so want a shower,” she said.

Jethro faded into being panting. Valenko
nodded as the panther sat up and then swooned a little. “You all right?” He
rumbled, suddenly concerned.

“Tired. Cloak takes a lot of energy,”
Jethro said between pants. His eyes were closed. Sergei handed him a water
bottle with the cap off. Jethro took it but his hands were trembling.

“Why'd they leave you in?” Valenko
asked, crossing his arms.

Jethro took another ragged breath. “They
thought they had me, I was on the run. I got away clean though it was close
sir,” he panted, eyes closed.

“I see it's not all fun and games for
you,” Lieutenant Myers said kneeling next to Jethro.

“Metabolic rate is returning to normal
sir. Low blood sugar and well...” Jethro shrugged.

“It takes it out of you. Yeah, I see
that.”

“Yeah,” he said between pants. “But it
was worth it. Got the job done,” Jethro replied, flicking his ears.

“That it did son. Good work,” the
Lieutenant said with a nod and pat on the shoulder. “Carry on,” he said gruffly
as he turned and left.

“Better?” Valenko asked.

“Electrolytes are low. I think I need to
refuel.”

“Shit shower and shave. Hot wash on the
exercise can wait,” Valenko replied with a nod. “Good job people,” he said to the
bay at large. His team looked up and nodded. The noob's exchanged high fives. A
few of the ambush team looked put out. More than one looked shook up.

“Damn man, going to have nightmares for
weeks,” one Private muttered, shaking. “He just came out of nowhere! First
thing I knew was when he ripped my throat out!” He shook, hand going to his
throat. He kept touching it with his fingertips, making sure it was still there
and intact.

“Just a sim man. But I suggest you learn
from it,” his partner said resting a hand on his shoulder. “Sim. Still here,
still bitching and whining. Suck it up. Tomorrow is another day,” he said.

“Damn straight.”

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

The Major shook his head as he
disconnected from the sim. How the hell had they pulled that off? He'd had it
covered. At least he'd thought he had... had he been hacked? He checked the sim
records and snorted. He watched from the bear's perspective and then from the
panther's.

Valenko... the son of a bruin... damn.
He had to admit it, they were good,
damn
good. If you can't land where
you need to, do the unexpected. His lips thinned in a grudging smile. He'd half
expected them to try to rappel the retreating team up into the dropship. He
hadn't expected the counter attack. “Damn they really are that good,” he
sighed. He made a note of the tactic and another commending Valenko and his
team for their initiative. Then he turned his attention to the growing mountain
of paperwork. He hated paperwork.

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

Jethro and the others ate in the ship's
galley. Jethro was ravenous, tearing at the meat like it was a real kill. The
other Marines in and out of his squad looked at him nervously. He shrugged it
off, too focused on getting the much needed protein. When he was done he drank
nearly a gallon of water and then blew off a class to sleep. He needed it. He
set his implants to audit the class before he drifted off.

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

Hurranna nodded politely to the Selkie
pilot Deja as they entered the massive boat bay together. She was excited about
being here. Together they went through the introduction lecture for the
Prejudice dropship. They were in San Diego, having caught a flight out to the
base.

The base wasn't finished but it did have
plenty of space and life support now that beamed power from the solar farm was
getting through. There was the dome for the Ssilli, and another dome nearby for
the academy. It looked to be about half finished. Until it was the new crop of
students were using supply rooms as improvised class rooms, or so Fonz and Kovu
had said. Most of the Marine side of the base was currently designated as
storage until they could figure out what to do with all their gear. A lot of
the Marine gear and vehicles would end up heading out to Agnosta.

There were 4 Marine Warhawks, 2 navy
Skyhawks, 1 Warhorse, 1 Aurelie, 1 Cirrus, 1 Nimbus, and 4 squadrons of
Prejudice dropships scheduled to go to Agnosta. The hawks and Prejudice
dropships were new built. All the others were salvaged from the various ships
in the fleet or bought from the colonies and restored to their former glory.

The Warhawks and Skyhawks were the same
craft frame with different roles and different paint jobs. The navy battleship
gray Skyhawk was a basic transport, designed to bring naval personnel up and
down from orbit. The olive drab Warhawk was a weaponized platform with a
similar mission. Both had forward swept wings and an inwardly canted double
rudder. They lacked  VTOL capabilities so they needed a long runway to
take off and land. They were primarily aircraft with limited space use. They
were an older design, about a century prior to the Xeno war, but well used.
They were simple vehicles, easy to repair since they shared a common frame and
90 percent of the same parts. Since they were so popular they had been updated
but kept in service production for the century prior to the Xeno war.

The Warhorse had been adapted to the
strike role out of desperation during the second AI war. Her wings had been
modified to carry munitions pods. She was like flying an elephant, cumbersome
and tricky but She had the most weapons of any shuttle in the fleet.

The Aurelie was their oldest craft,
recently rebuilt after Commander Logan negotiated it's purchase. It was nearly
two
thousand
years old. Ancient beyond belief, but still flying.

The Cirrus was a civilian design adapted
to military use during the Xeno war, or just prior to it. It was forty meters
long and twenty meters wide, able to carry up to a hundred troops. It had an
aerodynamic body and wing, with four engines in pods. The outermost pods were
on the tips of the wings and could swivel down to give the craft VTOL or STOL
ability. It was well liked for it's clean aerodynamics... it's an honest craft,
but like the Aurelie and Warhorse it was a bitch to stick in a boat bay. That
was why she was going to Agnosta.

The Nimbus was a bit different, she was
a modified old fighter with engines in the main body and on her wing tips. She
was heavily adapted to space but was extremely stealthy even for her age. She
had been used to carry small groups of Marines in boarding actions and special
ops, or had been used to launch torpedoes or recon probes.

The Prejudice was the only Marine craft
they had in limited production. Currently the TOE had eight squadrons on file,
each a squadron of 12 craft. Four of those squadrons would be going to Agnosta,
another two were currently in working up phases and would follow as shipping
permitted. The last two squadrons would be held in Pyrax for use here.

Building small craft was still a pain in
the ass. When many of the men and women had enrolled in the military they had
received key codes in their implants. Unfortunately only engineers of Commander
rank or higher received key codes for really critical parts. That meant only a
dozen men and women in the system could make some parts including the air
frames.

Of course that was only part of the
story. They could make some parts, but not everything the growing military and
the star system in general needed. Fusion reactors, hyperdrives, weapons...
military grade electronics and munitions, all of that was Captain's rank or
higher.

Which posed a problem. The admiral's
gift in Destiny had helped somewhat, but it hadn't solved the problem. But he
had left orders to work on things they could build.

Hence the Prejudice dropships and other
craft. Hawks were apparently going to be built next since they were even easier
to build and maintain than the Prejudice. The military electronics in the
shuttles and other craft may be proscribed but the frame and machinery weren't.
They had found that they could make replacement parts and Firefly had decided
to take a hand in the emergency situation, bending the emergency rules to allow
some tech to be built. Unfortunately the tech could only be built on Firefly
with her replicators... and it had to be parts for the ship which they then
surplused out to other projects.

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