Jethro: First to Fight (52 page)

The men chuckled in sympathy. Harley
just rolled her eyes. She flicked a glance to Asazi who snorted and took a pull
of beer.

“So, domestication going well?”

“Seems that way,” Clive joked, taking
another pull of beer. It was getting to be a hot day, they were in early
spring, but there were thunderheads on the horizon. The humidity was up,
playing merry hell with the wind and construction time table. Too much humidity
in the air and too much wind had paused the project they had been working on
near 1400.

“Did I mention she's pregnant?” Clive
asked, when everyone was quiet. That got him a round of shoulder slaps that
made him wince. The squad hooted and congratulated him.

“Man they do grow up fast! Only a couple
of months ago he was learning to walk and zip his boots together, now he's
picking out baby clothes! Damn!” Valenko rumbled. The officer's pub was closed
so the enlisted bar had lit the no rank sign. There were three paths to
becoming a Marine officer. Currently officers had to come up through the ranks,
serving some time in enlisted before mustanging into an officer's commission.
Everyone was still learning on the job, they were reinventing the corps from
the ground up.

The other two methods were through the
college program or the soon to be opened Annapolis academy. It was no surprise
that Major Forth and the current crop of officers favored the mustang method.
Sometimes the best method was to learn hands on. There was a bit of grumbling
about having classroom nerds in charge of veteran Marines in both enlisted and
commissioned circles.

That did open up the problem of
fraternization. Having a beer with someone you went through boot with wasn't a
big thing as long as you were both enlisted. But when one received a
commission, it suddenly became an issue for discipline. The same for
socializing, which was a pain in the ass when say, an enlisted buddy sent you a
wedding invitation. The corps was still feeling things like that out.

“Feeling your age?” Jethro asked. He
knew the Lieutenant missed his daughters growing up.

“A bit,” Valenko rumbled. He downed his
beer and then wiped at his muzzle. He set the beer down with a tap. “I've got
to split, papers and all that. Good work Bret. Good luck,” he said with an
earthy chuckle as he headed for the door. “You'll need it,” he said over his
shoulder.

“How far along is she?” Asazi asked.

“Three months,” Clive replied, waving to
the Lieutenant as he exited. “And thoroughly sick of the morning sickness.
You'd think in our day and age they'd have something better than salted
crackers for something like that.”

“They might but it might affect the
baby's development. Or it might not but your wife doesn't want to chance it.
Either way, both will survive. Women have been going through it for thousands
of years after all,” Harley said, for once not making a joke. “You on the other
hand...” She grinned. “You may not survive if she is in a foul enough mood and
gets her hands around your throat.”

“Me?” Clive asked, rearing back. “What'd
I do?”

“You knocked her up good and proper. So
you're a dead man,” she teased. “Wait until diapers, teething... Oh boy. If you
aren't around for that then you're dead.”

“Shit,” Clive said head in his hands.
“All that? I'm so screwed,” he said mournfully. The squad laughed, slapping him
on the back once again.

When the ships were unloaded the
freighter crews were thanked for their services and given two weeks ground side
leave. Some visited friends they had made on Parris Island, most however went
to the civilian space port in New Landing city. They spent hundreds of credits
there, giving the economy a much needed kick in the pants.

When the last returned to their ships
and refueling was completed the ships were escorted back to the Pyrax jump
point by Hecate. Only one of the freighters would be returning sometime in the
future, one of the freighters was set to make regular supply runs to the
growing base.

The factory ship remained in orbit,
working on the various projects. Shuttles made the run from the factory ship to
the planet, bringing up supplies from the planet and down finished goods and
materials. Some of the exported equipment had to be assembled on the ground. Ox
frequently found himself tapped to help there. The Tauren was also in charge of
shipping dozens of powered armor down to the planet and the newly finished
morgue on Parris island. His request that the wearers bring their own suits
down in a drop had been denied, the Major wanted to keep wear on the precious
armor down to a minimum, though he did appreciate the thought of testing it in
field conditions.

Once Destiny, the last of the freighters
made the jump, Hecate left the dispatch boat at the jump point to return to the
inner system. The little frigate refueled at the planet's growing fuel farm and
then went to its assigned position guarding the B452c jump point. There the
frigate oversaw the tugs assembling the jump point defenses. It was a long run
to the jump point from the inner system, but they didn't dare let Hephaestus
sit on the jump point to make what was needed. A factory ship sitting on a
potentially hostile jump point was just asking for trouble.

The frigate and dispatch boat were
to  remain in the system as the official naval presence until another ship
could be brought on station to rotate them out. In a few short months it would
be Firefly and Hephaestus’s turn to return to Pyrax.

Hecate made a great occasional training
opponent for Firefly. The larger ship had most of the advantages of course, but
Hecate occasionally managed to win a few of their simulated scenarios. Normally
by escaping from the larger ship's range and pretending to run to the jump
point.

“It's like toying with a mouse. Fun but
we're not really learning much are we?” Mayweather asked after their last
exercise terminated. They were still working out the best place for Hecate to
sit out her sojourn. Her Naga Captain Ssri'allth wanted to sit near the B452c
jump point to protect the system.

Doctrine of course was divided. There
was some wisdom for being right on a jump point, you could get some critical
intel to the rest of the system or get some major hits into a ship as it
translated down from hyper and was vulnerable.

The frigate had limited energy weapons
on board, each had a very short range, under a hundred kilometers, so it made
sense. But she also had a very finite missile supply. Sitting on the jump point
was also suicidal, your enemy would be coming through under power while you
would be holding station, virtually sitting still.

Still, that edge of getting in the first
licks was important. Especially when you were a small fish going up against
larger sharks.

But it also meant you were on station
far from any support for lengthy time periods with no warning of an incoming
ship or fleet. You had to be on your toes at full red alert for that entire
period... which wore down both men and equipment quickly.

The good news was that they had a
handful of Frankenstein orbital defense platforms and shoals of missile pods in
orbit of the planet and at the jump point. The bad news was that they required
a starship or some other platform to control and direct the weapons in an
engagement. The weapons platforms had to be serviced and refueled constantly to
remain on station, otherwise they drifted away. They also required a tug or
tractor to keep them where you wanted them, always a chore.

Conventional wisdom dictated that they
sit in orbit of the primary target waiting for a ship to come in and then
reacting to its hyperspace translation. No current ship could hide a
translation at a known jump point. Neutrino detectors and other sensors could
give a rough approximation of who had come through the jump point as well.

But that let the enemy pick the time and
course to the planet which was a problem.

Right now they were working on an
alternative. Hecate's Captain Ssri'allth had taken the advice of his XO and
weapons officer and had suggested Hecate sit in orbit of the gas giant near the
refinery platform. There he could watch the system and build an intercept
vector if an enemy came in and shredded the defense platforms. If he was tricky
enough he could do it without being spotted. If the ships were too big or too
numerous for him to handle he could go into stealth or hightail it to the Pyrax
jump point.

Of course Hecate had been a little put
out that Firefly
had
spotted her when she tried to ambush the larger
ship despite her simulated damage. Hecate was just too small to mount truly
effective stealth systems, that was quickly made apparent to her and to the
crew of Firefly. A frigate was a compromise... to many compromises of fuel,
drives, ECM, and munitions.

If the balloon ever did go up when
Firefly wasn't around Hecate would have to signal the dispatch boat to get the
word out to Pyrax and then shadow whoever came into the system. They just
couldn't go toe to toe with anything larger than another frigate, even with the
defenses they had on the jump point. That wasn't something any of the naval
personnel nor the Marines on the ground were happy about.

 ...*...*...*...*...

Once the basic structure of the Main
Operation Base and spaceport were complete, as well as the basic firebases,
attention turned to the training facilities. The men and equipment took their
hard earned experience and started making the boot camp or 'Recruit Depot' as
it was formally called, parade grounds, exercise facilities, obstacle course
and other facilities. Gunny laid out the plans and oversaw construction
personally, using his hands as blades to indicate roads, buildings, and other
structures. No one argued with him, not even the handful of officers.

Jethro occasionally stopped in to lend a
hand when the squad was in camp and not on a guard rotation. He felt like he
was playing hooky, but it helped to familiarize himself with the training
facilities. It was one thing to have a map in your implants, quite another to
have it in your mind. Muscle memory as the Gunny said. Know your terrain.

 ...*...*...*...*...

One of the other major projects was the
Naval Hospital. It was constructed in phases, with a basic trauma center first,
followed by wards and specialty facilities to follow on in successive phases.
Once it was complete recruits would get implants, personnel could go there for
everything from a hangnail to major trauma, and it would serve as a training
facility for medics on the planet.

The recruits in stasis were shuttled
down and stored in a warehouse next to the hospital. Once they were 'decanned'
the stasis pod would be refurbished and then shipped out to Pyrax for reuse.

 ...*...*...*...*...

Six weeks after the initial landing, a
small fishing schooner came to the island. The occupants had seen the landing,
and reported it to the fishing village on the mainland.  They had been
laughed at by their friends, who told them about the Marines and their mission.

A Marine beach patrol spotted their
vessel and called it in. They met their dingy as it landed on the shore. Six
young men, two women, one Veraxin, and the bearded male Captain came ashore on
the incoming tide. Instead of treating them as potential hostiles, Lieutenant
Myers showed some tact and diplomacy and invited them to a tour and supper.

They rode in the LAV's back to the main
base. The kids from the boat were enthralled by the growing Marine base camp,
their heads swiveled about and they pointed excitedly to this feature or that
feature.

Myers noted the Captain wasn't too
happy. “Something on your mind?” he asked.

“Yeah, I used to take my kids here,
picnicking,” the Captain said gruffly. His eyes wandered around. “I honeymooned
on this island with my wife twenty years ago.”

“Oh.”

Clearly, the Captain was a little put
out that his private hideaway had been co-opted. Apparently the island had been
an occasional spot for families to go to camp, and for ships in the area to
stop at and re-provision when needed.

“We've negotiated a century lease on the
island chain,” Myers said, trying to keep things on the up and up. I'm sure
your community will see some of that income. Also we're providing medical
training as well as education and job opportunities to all Agnostans.”

The ship Captain grunted, but didn't
respond.

Major Forth found time in his schedule
to meet with the visitors. “I'd like to welcome you to the island, but I've
been told you've been here before,” he said, shaking hands with each of them.

“How?”

“How what?” The Major asked simply.

“How'd you know?” the oldest lad asked. He
had to be at least nineteen. He was broad chested, brown from years in the sun.
He had a white shirt and pants on. He was barefoot, apparently most of them
were. Some used their toes to hold the rat lines in the rigging, their toes
were callused and strong.

“I sent the Major a text message,” Myers
interjected. “When I asked him if he was available for a quick visit,” he
finished.

“How?”

“I have implants,” Myers said, tapping
his forehead. The teens didn't get it, but the Captain did. His eyes widened
slightly.

“Implants. Can we get them?”

“If you sign on, or if you pay for a
civilian doctor to install them, yes. But the civilian doctors who can do
implants are all in Pyrax I'm afraid,” Major Forth said.

“Ah.”

“I've added a pier to the list of construction
structures. Did your people let you know that we are going to be phasing in
weather reports? Also Marine air search and rescue for ships lost or in
distress in the area.”

“Really?”

“You'll have to get the weather report
from someone who has a radio. And we can't receive a distress signal unless
someone with a radio lets us know, but well, we're working on it,” the Major
said, feeling a bit lame at all the provisions. It would be years, possibly a
decade before radios became wide spread. Ships badly needed them though.

“Thank you,” the Captain said softly.
“I've lost two brothers and an uncle to the sea. Knowing someone is at least
willing to go look for them,” he shook his head.

“Well, part of the issue is knowing when
a storm is coming so you can avoid it,” the Major replied. He pointed to a
truss tower with a ball on top. The tower was over ten meters tall and mounted
on a hill side. Antenna now dotted the mountain, Marine crews had set them up.
At the very peak of the mountain another series of structures was being set up.
“That's a Doppler radar. It tells us what the weather is around us for hundreds
of kilometers.”

“Ah.”

“We've also deployed weather and
communication satellites. Once we get the system finished we'll have satellite
weather and communications, but also air tracking and global navigational
aids.”

“That'll be nice.”

“We're still working on finding a
civilian company to partner with to manufacture and market the civilian
versions of the devices,” the Major said.

“Ah,” the Captain grunted. “I was going
to ask if we could trade for them. I've got some fish and crustaceans.”

“I'm sure we can work a trade out,” the
Major said, nodding.

It seemed though, that the idea was well
received. Or at least food for much thought and discussion once they got back
to their fishing village.

“I want to join. Where do I sign,” a
voice in the back asked. As if the tide had suddenly pulled out, the sea of
people around the lad parted. He stood there, nervous but seemingly brave.

“Lad,” the Captain sighed, now greatly
annoyed. “You don't know what you're asking boy,” he said gruffly. “They can't
use the likes of you!” he snarled, waving a hand.

“I can do it!” the lad said. “Give me a
gun and I'll prove it!” he said, lifting his chin.

“Don't mind the lad. The boy's family
had been killed when the pirates had invaded a year ago,” another boy said, the
eldest of the group.

The Major studied the lad. He was
tearful, grim but very determined to get his own back.

“Can you read son?” the Major asked
softly.

The boy shook his head.  “No sir.
But I can follow orders, I can shoot. I can man a ship. One of those space
ships might be harder, but I can learn.”

“You want a naval assignment? Son, you
have to be highly educated, a spacer to handle something like that. Being out
on the sea is one thing, being up there,” Myers shook his head.